Harnessing the Elements
by Baron de Pencier
Summary: The Ember Group razed the Northern Water Tribe. They tried to kill the Fire Lord twice. Their ultimate goal: destroy the White Lotus. Who are they, and what role do Alphonse and Edward Elric have to play in their schemes? Now with rewritten Chapters 1-4!
1. I- The Spark

Alphonse Elric knew his brother was at peace. Too much peace. He was, in a word, bored. The countryside, the end of the war... it was all well and good, and yet... Colo- General Mustang had ordered them out of Central, supposedly for "a little R&R". Al had definitely needed it- he still felt the weakness deep in his bones every morning when he got out of bed. But Ed? Well, he claimed he was fine. Sure, he'd given up his alchemy, but that didn't change things! Ed needed to get involved. To get his hands dirty. Al knew his brother would never disobey Mustang, though. He was taking to his new position well, although the rumours about some sort of new uniform overhaul for female officers had been quashed almost immediately. Al snorted. Tiny miniskirts. Just like the Colonel. Er, the General. Technically, General Armstrong was the highest military authority in Central, but she'd returned to Briggs as quickly as possible. Which left Mustang as, well... as Fuhrer Mustang. No one was using that word anymore, but everyone knew it. Mustang had fulfilled his dream. The blinded Flame Alchemist had become Fuhrer of Amestris, the greatest military power in the world. Al was satisfied. But if he knew the faint frown on his zoned-out brother's face, Ed wasn't.

"...Edward? Brother? Hello?"

When Ed blinked, Al stopped waving his hand.

"Oh! Brother, you're still with us."

Ed nodded, shaking his head. He had been pretty gone there for a second.

"Sorry Al. Just daydreaming, y'know? What is it?"

"I was just wondering what you were thinking about, Brother. You looked... I dunno, sad. Or something."

Ed grinned slightly as he replied. Al knew he still looked a little comically skeletal. That, plus the slight sunburn he'd gotten while jogging yesterday...

"I was just thinking about the Homunculi... about Father. About Hohenheim. I- I kind of wish they were still here. That we were still fighting."

Al couldn't believe his ears. Wanting to get out into the world was one thing, but bringing _them_ back?

"Brother! Are you serious? They tried to destroy the country! They almost killed everyone! I miss Hohenheim just as much as you do, but to wish for that genocidal maniac back... What were you thinking?"

Ed sighed, obviously realizing how stupid what he'd said sounded. He tended to do that a lot.

"Look, Al. I- I didn't mean it like that. You know I didn't. Father and the homunculi- well, except for Greed- were evil. They had to be destroyed. But I miss the adventure. Being fugitives from the law! Fighting for what was right! Peace is great and all, but..."

Al nodded wistfully. He did have a point. To a certain degree.

"Okay. I get it. I've caught myself thinking the same thing, Brother. For all that it was tough and scary and horrifying... yeah, it really was fun."

Ed sighed again, and Al matched his gaze, staring out at the sweeping green fields of Risembool. Winry had insisted that they go on regular walks, both to keep Ed occupied and to help Al get the strength back in his legs. Al felt he was making lots of progress. He could jog, slowly, even sprint a little. But there was still a long way to go before he was back to being- well, human. Maybe that was why Pinako kept on trying to serve them rare steaks.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you, Ed. The paper came this morning."

The Risembool Herald wasn't a bad paper, per se, but they tended to think a little too rurally for Al's tastes. He'd paid for the weekly Central Times to be shipped out by train, and eagerly devoured it every day. For all that Risembool was peaceful and unchanging, Central (and the rest of Amestris to boot) was still a hotbed of political activity. And Al got bored, in his own way. News helped.

"Any news?"

"Not much. There was a finance article saying that Havoc Supplies just gained a total monopoly of the industrial manufacturing capability in the Western Provinces. He's doing well for himself."

Al grinned as he spoke, feeling a twinge of pride. The wheelchair-bound Havoc, unconventional as always, had become an invaluable resource for the new Mustang government, acting as an economic and intelligence guru above and beyond anything anyone would expect from a simple merchant.

"Guess he's still got some of that fighting spirit left, huh? When Mustang granted him and his company tax-free status, I thought he was gonna cry or something."

There'd been accusations of cronyism, rampant militarism and corruption when it was discovered that Mustang was essentially using a former subordinate as an unlimited black market military-industrial contractor. That had quickly vanished when the Havoc Rail Works (a company Al knew for a fact had only been in existence for about three months) opened up a brand-new rail line direct from Ishbal to Central, and began the first of its weekly aid shipments. Where Mustang and Havoc got the money, he couldn't begin to guess. No one had expected the State Alchemists to become glorified construction workers, but then again no one had complained when they rebuilt Central in three days.

They walked in silence for a few more minutes, both enjoying the bright sunlight and the slight breeze that caressed the fields. Al's knees were starting to get a bit sore, but he knew that if he worked through it-

"Ed! Al!", a voice sounded over the fields, shortly accomapnied by a slamming car door. They turned simultaneously, startled by the bespectacled figure in a military-issue greatcoat.

"Sergeant Fuery! Kain!", Ed whooped, rushing towards the bespectacled radioman.

He stepped away from the long, black automobile, grinning as he always did.

"Good to see you again, Fullmetal! How're you doing?"

There was a brief exchange of warm handshakes. Al was worried, though. Something wasn't quite right here.

"Kain, what are you doing here? You don't drive around in government cars on your spare time."

Fuery sighed.

"Always to the point, aren't you Al?", he said, leaning back against the car and polishing his wire-frame glasses on a handkerchief he pulled from the inside of his coat.

"Officially, I'm here to supervise the overhaul of Risembool's main radio hub. I left my engineering team back at the station. But the Fuh-Mustang wanted me to deliver this to you. We- uh, well to be honest, we've got a mission for you."

Al cocked an eyebrow as Ed examined the wax-bound letter, its seal stamped with the Fuehrer's crest.

"I thought we were retired. We were promised that we were free from all ties to the military!"

Fuery laughed placatingly.

"Oh, no, this isn't military at all!"

Ed glanced through the letter, his growing confusion plain to read.

"The Ministry of Transportation? Experimental Division?"

* * *

Two immense steam engines throbbed as the airship slowly came to rest, huge landing struts unfolding from the bottom of its swollen cargo bay. The ice cracked and crunched as it absorbed the ship's bulk, but held. The loading ramp clanked downwards, locking into place against the frozen ground. In a blast of steam, two Ember Group Howling Dragon-model mobile artillery platforms trundled onto the ice, two sets of twelve pedrail wheels each hauling a pair of bulky steam projectors.

General Si pulled his scarf closer about his face as he squinted at the dial of his watch. It ticked away, impervious to the frigid, blustery breezes that flung crystals of ice in his face. It was technically sunny, but the ground-level winds were so intense that they cast a continuous cloud of ice fragments, making it difficult to see at the best of times. He looked up, straining to see as he heard the triple roar of the airship group overhead. They were on schedule.

He dropped back into the dimly lit main chamber of the Howling Dragon, pulling the top hatch tight against the cold. Nodding firmly at the chief artilleryman, he settled into the commander's seat, stretching a detailed topographical map across the control panel in front of him.

"Signalman."

"Sir!"

"Message for Unit Two and the carrier. We are at T-minus twelve minutes, thirty seconds. Operation is a go."

"Yessir."

Behind him, the boilers began to chug as the engineers fed more coal into them.

* * *

Waterbending Master Pakku couldn't restrain a start as he came around the corner and saw the Fire Nation soldiers. Old habits died hard. There'd been widespread complaints when Fire Lord Zuko offered to establish a small airship depot in the Northern Water Tribe. The hardliners had raised hell, but Chief Arnook had silenced them, insisting on the benefits of modernized contact with the rest of the world. Pakku had to admit he was right, if only grudgingly. After the war, the Fire Nation had immediately retired their entire fleet, converting them from flying warships into long-range couriers and cargo ships. Many people still couldn't believe that it was now possible to travel from the Northern Water Tribe to the Southern in less than a week, but that was fire Nation technology for you.

It still bothered him that they hadn't changed the uniforms yet. To most people, the stylized skull mask and pointed shoulders of a Fire Nation trooper held... unpleasant connotations.

Something subconscious made him look up, past the blazing light of the summer sun. There were airships up there... three of them? And they were approaching from the north, hardly the normal route. Something was up. Those were _not_ couriers. And hadn't Arnook ordered a delay on all non-official air traffic for the potlach?

* * *

Si stared down the optigraph telescope, reading the coded messages flickering off the airships. They were commencing their bombing run. As he watched, barely breathing in order to keep the telescope steady, he watched the bomb bays fall open, dropping dozens of barely-visible man-sized cylinders, each trailing an undersized parachute. Righting themselves as they fell, tiny clockwork devices within their metallic shells sprang to life, carefully measuring altitude. At precisely the right moment, hatches sprang open in their sides, and they began to trail long streamers of brackish brown mist. Si sat back from the telescope, folding it away. He didn't need to see what would happen next.

"T-minus fourty seconds. Confirm firing solution?

"Confirmed, General."

The interior of the artillery platform was now uncomfortably hot, the pressure tanks radiating heat through their thick ceramic insulation.

"Fire."

The Howling Dragon bucked as the two steam projectors activated simultaneously. Steam under thousands of tons of pressure poured into the firing chambers, forcing two ten-kilogram shells out barrels at several dozen times the speed of sound. As they left the barrel, small panels on their outsides unfolded into miniature fins, spinning the projectiles and keeping them stable. They crossed the kilometres of glacier in seconds, their internal fuses crackling merrily. Then they hit the cloud of highly explosive heavier-than-air gas that carpeted the Northern Water tribe. The fuses hit four packages of high-explosive blasting jelly. Only three of them caught, but they were enough.

* * *

Suddenly, the air was filled with the horrible odour of rotting eggs, and something sickly-sweet. Coughing into his sleeve, Pakku staggered through the oily mist, feeling it cling to his clothes. That smell... he knew that smell. Where had it come from...

Then he realized, gasping in horror. It smelled a little like Fire Nation siege oil. _Extremely_ _flammable_ Fire Nation siege oil. He'd seen what it did to human flesh. Acting on instinct, he began to Waterbend, sinking into the ice below. He had to get out of there. The only safe way was down.

* * *

The gas ignited instantly, creating a roaring shock wave of expanding superheated air. The temperature within the bay that held the capitol skyrocketed from below freezing to well over one thousand degrees. The entire city flash-vaporized under the intense heat, the resulting cloud of saltwater steam further increasing the size of the shock wave. Then it hit the inside wall of the cliff. Miraculously, it managed to avoid destroying the Spirit Oasis. Rebounding from the cliff wall, the shock wave compressed against itself, generating more heat and a zone of overpressure that exploded upwards, rocking the rapidly ascending Ember Group airships. The sea roared away under the force of the blast, a huge tsunami that destroyed every ship within several dozen kilometres. Then, slowly, it began to pour back inwards, filling the superheated crater that was all that remained of the city. Huge chunks of partially-melted glacier slid into the sea, casting up small, secondary waves. As the steam and smoke cleared, all that remained of the Northern Water Tribe was a crater, several kilometres across, filled with ash and sooty debris.

* * *

Si smiled, leaning back into his seat as the ringing in his ears died away.

"Signalman, give the order. We're done here."

"Yes, General Si!"

Si smiled to himself, but when he spoke it was directed to everyone in earshot.

"Gentleman, that explosion signals the end of the Four Nations."

The Roaring Dragons rumbled back up the ramp, and within minutes the cargo airship had disappeared into the icy skies.

-~0X0~-

This... this is only the beginning.

Review, comment, and ask questions, please! Reviews are what keep me going! If you want me to write more, then dagnabbit I will!

EDIT: Fixed the broken paragraph dividers.

EDIT 2: Rewrote most of the chapter to fix continuity, add a bit of foreshadowing, and narrow down the number of POV characters.


	2. II- Telealchemic Portation

II. Telealchemic Portation

From The Office of the Fuhrer

Amestris Central [00000A1]

[Most Secret]

[April 3rd], [1917]

Delivered [by Hand] to State Alchemist (Ret'd) [Edward Elric], [Fullmetal]

Ed,

I know I'd promised that I'd leave you in peace, but we've got a bit of a problem. What do you mean, too informal? Riza, please. Wait, did you write that down? No! Delete that! Okay? Okay. The Ministry of Transportation's Experimental Division is making some peculiar budget claims. I know you're no auditor, but we need you to check out why exactly they want enough military-grade steel to build a steam engine, and the services of twelve State Alchemists. I don't think they're a threat, but we're too busy here to do a detailed investigation, and you're our most knowledgeable alchemist. I'm attaching a copy of their budget request, and a brief summary of their divisional manifest. To be honest, we don't really know what they're up to. They really fell through the cracks during the war. I hope Fuery gets this to you on time. Nonetheless, there's no rush.

Good luck,

-Mustang

* * *

Out of the corner of his eye, Al saw Ed almost run into a lamp post. Was he still going on about Winry? He rolled his eyes, sighing disappointedly. _Honestly_. Those two. Someone had mentioned the L-word at some point and now they were acting like they'd _die_ if they weren't living in the same home. And that way she'd said _goodbye_... Al considered Winry a member of the family, but come on, now. There was such thing as basic human decency.

They were in one of the industrial districts in the west end of the city, and though the streets were busy, they lacked the same frenetic energy of the downtown residential districts. Heavy tricks chugged past the high brick walls of the factories, and the sky was dominated by dozens of towering smoke stacks. Al paused for a moment, glancing between the street signs and the thin sheaf of paper he held.

"It should be just around this corner, Brother."

They turned the corner, only to see... very little. 35 East Industrial Plaza was a boxy brick building in a neighbourhood full of boxy brick buildings. As they crossed the street, Ed squinted at the badly weathered government plaque that stood next to the door.

"This is the Ministry, all right. But it doesn't look like anyone's home."

"Maybe we should ring the bell?"

"Oh. Right."

Ed did so, and a distant bell _clanged_ fitfully. There was no sign of movement behind the dusty frosted-glass doors.

"So who are we looking for, again?"

Al glanced at the papers, which had obviously spent too much time buried on someone's desk. There were prominent mug stains on several of the earlier pages.

"A man by the name of Director Henry von Junker. He's supposed to be the division head."

They both started, hearing footsteps behind the door. Ed straightened, readjusting his Alchemists's coat. Al settled with adjusting his tie. Ed just couldn't let go of the red coat. The lock on the door clicked, and an old man peered out.

"Hello, yes?"

"We're Edward and Alphonse Elric, from-"

"Oh, the boys from Central!", he beamed. "Please, come in. And do watch your step."

He pulled the door fully open, wincing as it scraped on its hinges, and waved the Elrics inside. They came into a dusty anteroom, its shelves and cabinets overflowing with papers and thick technical manuals. Al couldn't help noticing that they still used gas lights; a rarity for Central. Despite the warm glow of the lights, the room itself was barely warmer than the outside.

"Oh, but where are my manners? Henry von Junker, at your service."

He had a slight northern accent, and as Al clasped von Junker's hand he realized that his grip was surprisingly strong. The old man was slightly built, with a large bushy beard and a bad comb-over. He squinted over thick spectacles, their lenses flecked with what Al hoped was machine oil. He wore a somewhat shabby business suit, with a thick, scarred leather apron over top.

"I must apologise for the mess. We only got the Fuhrer's letter a few days ago, and we haven't had much time to prepare. May I take your coats?"

"No, thank you, Director von Junker," Ed said, all business. "We'd like to make this as efficient as possible. Why the peculiar budget claims?"

Von Junker sighed, shuffling over to a set of reinforced double doors on the far side of the room.

"Straight to the point, aren't you, _Herr_ Elric? I had heard that the Fullmetal Alchemist was a real professional, and it seems my sources were correct."

They hurried after him. The old man was sprightlier than he looked, bypassing the low piles of garbage and papers that littered the room.

"Sources?"

The old man shrugged.

"Bureaucratic grapevine. I'd heard you were closely involved with the overthrow of the previous Fuhrer. Of course, politics is none of my concern, but it's nice to hear that the young people are making a name for themselves, no?"

Al felt it was time to break in.

"I'm sorry, Director von Junker, but we'd really like to know about what you're working on."

"Of course, of course. Please follow me to the workshop."

He pushed open the double doors, and Ed and Al both gasped at what they saw before them.

To call the workshop big would be an understatement. Huge was more accurate. It wasn't quite immense, but it was certainly very, very big. Row upon row of arc lamps illuminated a hall that was well over two city blocks long, and at least one wide. From the look of the walls, they had taken several adjacent blocks of warehouses and removed most of the connecting walls, leaving a cavernous space broken only by towering iron girders. Spread across its distance were dozens of large work tables, covered with mechanical detritus. Several full-sized train tracks ran the length of one side of the hall, while the other side appeared to have been cleared, its wall covered in scaffolding. Several bulky objects were shrouded with tarpaulins. A few dozen old men, clad in similar clothing to von Junker, filled out the image of a gigantic mad scientist's laboratory.

"I believe what you're looking for is over on the right wall. Please, come with me."

They walked slowly past row after row of mechanical gewgaws, many of them covered in thick layers of dust and the detritus of time. Whoever the Experimental Division were, they'd been here for a long, long time. Ed, being Ed, was instantly distracted.

"What have you been working on that's so impor- the hell is that?"

A gigantic bulbous egg of canvas hung from the ceiling, its thin skin criss-crossed with narrow metal ribbing. Von Junker adjusted his spectacles, obviously pleased with the attention.

"I see you've noticed our aerostat. It's a flying machine."

Ed, never one for subtlety, gawped.

"What, like the ones you see at the moving pictures? I thought man-powered flight was impossible?"

"It's not by any means impossible. My division, at this very moment, has the capability to transport a ton of cargo by air across this country in a week, at most. All we need is money, and the alchemists to provide the helium."

Al nodded, slowly. He thought he understood the physics. It was a deceptively simple idea. These old men were more clever than they appeared.

"I get it. You fill a bag with a gas that's lighter than air and buoyancy does the rest. But what about propulsion? Wouldn't it just drift?"

"Not if you attach a series of powerful motors to the gas bag."

Von Junker gestured to a work table bearing the weight of four large windmill-like fans.

"It's really just a matter of connecting industrial-strength fans with enough strength that they won't tear the gasbag to pieces. But we must move on. This is not the main attraction. Please, let us keep moving, hmm?"

Next they passed what looked to be an abstract skeletal model of a bird.

"This is our aerofoil. If the aerostat is suitable for heavy lifting, then this design is suitable for speed."

Al cocked an eyebrow. He'd connected the aerostat with the fire lanterns he'd sometimes made as a small child- the lifting-gas concept was the same. But this...?

"How does a thin sheet of metal fly, exactly?"

"Have you ever flown a kite? A thin sheet of taut fabric can fly. This is just the same principle, but on a larger scale. A fan or rocket drives air over the leading edge of the foil, which creates a pressure differential between the top and bottom of the craft, driving it upwards. Bending the foil along these seams allows you to change the direction of the lifting force, and so steer. The only problem we've run into on this one is weight; we can't get engines strong enough to provide the thrust we need. But theoretically it's quite sound."

Ed beamed.

"Incredible, Mr. Von Junker. Simply incredible."

The old man seemed to have hit his stride, and his infection enthusiasm carried the Elrics along. Al couldn't help but grin as the frail old man was transformed into a creature of childlike wonder, his eyes bright with excitement.

"After we'd dismissed the aerofoil, we came upon another idea! Though it is not the greatest of our works, I present to you... the aeroalchemic engine!"

He gestured to a series of fluted tubes, their surfaces inscribed with intricate alchemical designs. Ed peered in close, running his fingers over the crabbed runes.

"Those are Kelley arrays... why do you need large-scale energy transfer in an engine?"

"It's very simple. Thrust. These small fans here, powered by a simple electric motor, drive air into the transmutation chambers here. Now, as you're no doubt aware, Kelley arrays can be activated by electrical currents, yes? Good. So, when the fans are activated, the current triggers these arrays, which... can you guess what they do, Mr. Elric?"

Ed looked closer, then glanced at Al.

"It's fairly simple elemental transmutation, but my symbology is rusty. Al?"

He glanced briefly at the arrays. Pretty simple stuff, but of a configuration he'd never seen before.

"It looks like they heat the air up. The same sort of arrays that Mustang uses- er, used, but much simpler."

Von Junker beamed even more.

"Precisely, Mr. Elric. So, the hot air expands in the chamber, and these valves force it out of the bottom of the tube, here. In essence, a tiny electrical current generates a tremendous amount of thrust using nothing more than hot air! If we could prevent the arrays from degrading in the heat, aeroalchemic engines would permit men to fly like birds. Imagine the skies opened up to everyone! It would end suffering! Poverty! War!"

Ed shook his head in wonderment, while Al just nodded. Okay, now he was starting to sound like a mad scientist.

"I-"

"Please, let me finish. You're going to love this."

He hurried over to the scaffolding, where most of the researchers seemed to be working.

"Ventura! Mitchell! Stop the testing! We're doing a dry run. And take those canvasses down! Show our guests."

The researchers bustled about, connecting huge banks of electrical power cables into several compact dynamos further down the wall. Von Junker turned back to them.

"Tell me, what are the three basic principles of alchemy?"

"Comprehension, Deconstruction and Reconstruction."

"Precisely, Alphonse. May I call you Alphonse? Good. You understand what an object is, you reduce it to a simpler form, and then you rebuild that form into something else. What we are building here, gentlemen, is the simplest application of that principle. I present to you... the telealchemic portation engine!"

The dramatic punch of his wild flourish was somewhat lessened when only half of the canvas coverings fell off, but the machine he revealed was nonetheless impressive. The telealchemic engine was mostly made up of two booths, slightly larger than a man, connected by thick skeins of cable. The floors and walls of each booth seemed to be mostly glass covering hundreds of tiny metallic tiles, each inscribed with a minute alchemic circle. The tiles themselves were mounted on complicated armatures, all leading back to two towering assemblies of gears and cogs, one for each booth. Al frowned. So. This was where their budget claims were going.

"Telealchemic portation? To carry over a distance using alchemy?"

"Precisely! Allow me to demonstrate."

Von Junker pulled a red-handled lever on the nearest booth, and then stepped inside. There was a hum of electricity as the tiles clicked and clattered, rearranging themselves faster than the eye could follow. The stacks of gears rotated, pegs locking into place. One of the researchers fed a thin strip of paper through one end of the machine, then glanced at it again as the machine spat it out.

"One hundred twenty-five! Error margin three!"

One of the researchers at the other booth gave a thumbs up, whereupon his team began to cart stacks upon stacks of thickly-bound books into their end. After a few seconds, their work was done.

"All right, boys. Main sequence start!"

The air filled with the smell of ozone as electricity arced across the outside of the booths. One of the old men pulled a second lever, yelling against the noise.

"Transfer in 3... 2... 1... Transference complete!"

Von Junker disappeared from the first booth in a flash of light and a blat of sound. Then he stepped out of the second, still beaming. The first booth was now filled with a stack of books. Al felt his fists clench unconsciously. Okay. Mad scientist for sure. But not in a good way.

"What in the hell just happened, von Junker! Was that human alchemy?"

He only grinned, dusting himself off. Ed swore, stepping forwards, his hands raised.

"If you're practising human transmutation-!"

"Nothing of the sort. I'm well aware of the strictures against human alchemy. And this isn't. This is the most basic alchemy possible. It is a direct application of the three principles. Please, allow me to explain. Let's call the booth on the right A, and the one on the left B, shall we? Good. So, I step into booth A. Activating that switch also activates the circles inscribed on the tiles there. Each tile is tuned to one of the elements. By measuring the feedback from each tile, we can exactly determine the elemental composition and energy states in chamber A. Now, the difference engine there," he indicated the tower of gearing, "Takes that data, encodes it, and outputs the weight to be transferred. We fill chamber B with an approximately equal mass. Once that is complete, we trigger the transfer between the two chambers. The difference engine takes my encoded information, and uses it to alchemically deconstruct me into electrical impulses. Meanwhile, the same thing is happening with the books in chamber B. So, now we have two encoded electrical patterns; one of me, in chamber A, and one of the books, in chamber B. It's a simple matter to switch these patterns, decode them, and then feed them back into the circles. The process happens in reverse, and we are reconstructed. It's not actually transmutation, since neither I nor the books change. It's merely transportation. Near-instantaneous transportation between two points, at any distance. All you need is two booths and telephone wire to connect them."

Al crossed his arms. It all made sense, but still. Ed was a little more convinced.

"I- I'm sorry for getting angry. I don't know what to say, Director. This- this could revolutionise... well, everything. The scientific application alone... _mein gott_."

Al felt the need to ask a very obvious question.

"It's safe?"

"Perfectly. I've gone through dozens of times. The only danger is that the connection between the booths is cut, but even then all that means is that we reverse the process and rebuild you back where you started. Would you like to try?"

"I- what?"

"I'm quite serious. We've been wanting professional alchemists down here for a long time. I think the input of working alchemists could be extremely useful."

"You're not an alchemist yourself?"

"I have theoretical knowledge, but not practical. The telealchemic engine is the application of that knowledge. Our only real problem is size. You can see just how massive the transfer booths need to be. If we could just get alchemists in here to help us simplify the arrays, we could build them at half the cost, and even perhaps make them portable. Really, go ahead and try. You can probably both fit at once."

"Frankly, I can't say I trust you. Nothing personal, I just tend to get jumpy around strange alchemical devices."

* * *

"Okay, I get it, I'm convinced."

Three demonstrations of the engines later, Ed was raring to go.

"Al?"

He had to admit, it was quite impressed. And given that Ed wasn't melting or screaming for the sweet release of death...

"I- I dunno, Brother. Something about this seems... unethical."

"Al... You know the theory, you know the science. This isn't human transmutation. Heck, I wouldn't even call it transmutation. Besides, isn't this an adventure? This is the cutting edge! We're getting the chance of a lifetime here!"

"Against my better judgement, all right."

Al smiled, trying to overcome his misgivings. These were just a bunch of excitable old engineers with too much time on their hands.

"Let's do this."

They crowded into the booth, and Al staggered as the floor sunk slightly downwards. Von Junker made an apologetic gesture.

"Sorry, we need to weigh you to get the encoding right. We'll get the books loaded momentarily."

"Couldn't you use something other than books? Something like actual weights, maybe?"

"Al..."

"No, unfortunately. That's what we wanted the metal for on our budget. For machining. We spent the last three year's budgets down to the last penny building the engine. The books work well enough. Plus they don't cost us a cent! Nobody wants thirty-year-old engineering manuals!"

He glanced at the controls for a second, then looked back.

"We're starting the transfer! Hold on."

Al felt his hair stand on end. He was familiar with the usual alchemical static discharge, but this was something else entirely. His arms tingled and, rolling up his sleeves, he could see tiny electrical flashes arcing between the hairs on his arm. Then his stomach lurched and he went blind. When his vision came back he was not in the second booth. He doubted he was anywhere in Amestris. An endless field of white stretched around him, and before him hung the Gate. Ed stood a ways away, a bewildered expression on his face.

"Oh no."

"Al? Are you okay?"

"I-I'm fine, Brother. But this is..."

Ed nodded.

"The gate. This is bad. Very bad."

At that very moment, the Gate cracked open, and a vaguely humanoid figure stepped through. It looked straight at Al and Ed, moved to step out of the Gate, and then did a double take. When it spoke, there was an unfamiliar note of bewilderment in its snide voice.

"The Elrics? What the fuck?"

"What have you done, Truth? Why are we here!"

It stood in bewildered shock at the edge of the Gate, then, suddenly, sat down on the threshold, cradling its head in an eerily human gesture.

"Oh no. What in the- Oh no oh no oh no. This-"

Suddenly it looked up, and spoke with a strange urgency. The snide sarcasm normally present whenever it spoke was gone.

"Ed. Al. Listen, this is of vital importance. Something has gone terribly, terribly wrong. There's no time to explain. Look, I'm giving you back your alchemy. When you get pulled in, it's vitally important that you stay away from high-energy radiation. If you die, you could take the multiverse with you. Oh, this is bad."

"Giving back Ed's alchemy? Multiverse? What 's the meaning of aaaaaaaaaaaaa-!"

The ground opened up beneath them, and they fell out of the white plane and into... something else.

The King glanced at his team. Their faces were fixed in expressions of controlled, if grim, excitement. He gazed back over the horizon, straining his neck from his hunched position with his fingers firmly planted in the stone of the bunker's floor. He wished he could see more, but these damn slitted goggles-

_Twenty-four vats of blasting jelly ignited, punching two tubular slabs of metal towards each other at dozens of times the speed of sound._

Everything went white. The sky filled with the radiance of a thousand suns. A mighty wall of flame and sound washed over the bunker. The earth trembled. As a great mushroom-shaped cloud sprouted on the horizon, King Bumi of Ba Sing Se removed the goggles with nerveless fingers. When he spoke, he did so without realizing it, quoting a text that he had read long ago.

"Now I am become Death, destroyer of worlds."

* * *

The assassin leaned further over the barrel of the steam projector, feeling its ignition chamber boiling under the heat from his hand. He readjusted his eye on the scope, peering down on the concourse several streets away. The targets were lined up exactly as the scouts had reported. The Primary and Secondary, in their ceremonial royal red garments, rode on a litter carried by two komodo-rhinos. Tertiary One strolled alongside, his orange robes a sharp contrast to the blues and greys of Tertiaries Two and Three. The Primary was lined up. He adjusted the focus on the scope lenses one final time, then tightened his finger over the trigger. The steam projector bucked, firing its tiny projectile towards its distant target.

For the briefest of moments, the air in front of him shimmered. Then, with an outrush of air, it deposited two confused and frightened Amestrians and a large pile of dusty old books directly in front of the path of the bullet. It hit Edward Elric in the top of his shoulder, grazing his flesh and leaving a shallow, painful cut. Its flight-path distorted, it missed Fire Lord Zuko, its intended target, completely.

The assassin only took a moment to react to something as patently impossible as two people and a pile of papers appearing directly in front of him. He removed a vial from his belt, set fire to it, and threw it in the air, where it exploded with a reverberating bang and a puff of blue smoke. Then, drawing a thin knife, he charged the apparitions in front of him, a wave of flame marking his passage.

* * *

The part of Al's mind that reacted to his being attacked wasn't entirely conscious. While a somewhat irrational part of him that was raving that someone had shot Ed in the shoulder, the part of his mind that was... deeper, more armoured- brought his hands together, and lifted up a block of... yes, it was ceramic tile. A sloping rooftop. He separated the tile into thin slices, sending them stabbing into the midsection of the man attacking him. He twisted, staggering only one pace back before launching into a spinning kick that sent a gout of fire roaring at Al's face. Before he could react, Ed had sucked the oxygen out of the air, and was going for one of his usual overly-acrobatic punches. The man responded by launching a volley of several more fireballs, before switching to a sword when Ed got too close. Al circled them as the dodged and weaved, unable to find an opening. Then he noticed something. Ed was fighting as if he still had an armour-encased arm. If he wasn't careful-

Ed fell backwards, arm deeply cut, roaring with pain as his blood spattered on the roof tiles. Al had his opening. Clapping his hands, he reached deep into the ceramic underneath him, lifting a narrow pillar that hit their attacker cleanly in the groin. He collapsed, yelping, but recovered with surprising speed. In a remarkable display of what Al thought might be flame alchemy, he made another strike, his fists wreathed in flame. Ed dodged, slamming his hands together in preparation for another strike, whereupon the attacker started screaming. He stumbled, the flames catching on his body, making a desperate attempt to extinguish the flames. His frantic gestures only seemed to make them worse. With a whoosh and a horrific wet popping sound, the orange fire became blue, and then a flat white. The thing that hit the roof was less a corpse, and more a badly carbonized skeleton. Al stared down at it, his nose wrinkling at the smell of burned flesh.

"What just-"

There was a distant explosion, followed by panicked screams. They reacted without thinking. Someone was in trouble.

* * *

Aang didn't see them until they had killed the guards. About a dozen men and women, in peculiar flanged gray body armour. All armed with what looked like crossbows. And all of them going for Zuko. They seemed to be an even mix of the three elements. He deflected a burst of flames, the gout of air exploding with a deafening _whoomph_. The crowd was screaming now, panicked. He flipped forwards, spinning around to deliver a reverse thrust that knocked the nearest firebender away, before throwing himself into a spinning dodge as a sharpened spear of ice whizzed past his face. Peripherally, he saw Katara, Mai, Zuko and Sokka fighting the attackers. Sidestepping one of the downed guards, he had to leap vertically to avoid a wall of earth. These guys were good.

"Katara! Who are these guys?"

"Not now, Aang!"

He kicked upwards into a leap, readying a ball of air to strike downwards at a non-bender coming at him, crossbow raised, when two more figures joined the fray. He caught a glimpse of bright... He caught a glimpse of bright... _yellow_? There was a peculiar flash of blue-white light, and a fist-shaped lump of rock sent the man below him staggering. Aang mustered a concussive sphere of air, ready to take down the unsteadu bowman. Then something went _wrong_. His vision seemed to sharpen, and he felt a surge of power through his arms. The ball of air whirled faster and faster, and he felt his skin burn as the friction started to wear away at his palms. The air around him was ringing like a bell, and he felt his ears pop. His attacker, though... He seemed to be shaking, doubling over as huge cracks spread across his armour. He screamed inaudibly, and Aang saw his teeth shatter one by one. The ball of air exploded. He felt something spatter across his face as his head cracked against the hard-packed ground. It was _warm_.

He faintly heard a second muffled detonation, then the sound of Zuko yelping and Katara screaming in fear.

* * *

Zuko didn't see the two figures join the battle. What he did know was that his firebending seemed to stop working. He was trying for a jet of fire, but all that happened was a feeling of pressure in his hand. Grunting in pain, he slid past a whip-like knot of flame, punching his hand out in a second try. It was almost like when he was first learning to Firebend, and all he could do was- The end of his fist exploded in a burst of white flame, and he was smashed into a wall as the line of fire from his fist incinerated one of his would-be assassins.

* * *

Katara was in trouble. She hadn't bothered to fill up her water skins, and she was running dangerously low. The thin shields of water surrounding her couldn't block or hit hard enough to be useful. The dry Fire Nation summer meant she couldn't get much water from the air, either. She swayed out of reach of the man striking for her, desperately reaching for water. Any water. Then she found some. Reality became crystal-clear, like thin frost. She noticed that her water shields were thickening. And turning pinkish-red. She smelled iron. Her attacker's mouth opened in a silent scream as blood poured from his pores, swirling around Katara. She began to scream as his skin dissolved.

* * *

Aang realized with horror that he was covered in... in _meat_. And then a nearby market stall burst open, revealing a man covered in fuses and sticks of what looked like blasting jelly. He wore the explosives like a cloak, stumbling under their weight as he hurled himself towards Zuko. Aang raised a hand, summoning all the elements to stop him, but couldn't react fast enough. He watched in horror as the man pulled a ripcord on his coat, and put on one last burst of speed. Then a blur of yellow. No, gold. Two figures. Both teenaged, maybe a little older. One tall and thin, the other shorter and muscular. He felt reality sharpen again as a wall of stone rose around the bomber. Then there was a dull _thunk_ and he blacked out.

-~0X0~-

Yay! Consider this a New Year's/ Christmas gift. With any luck, my updating scheduly will be one chapter of this length once a month, 'til it's done. I have no idea of how long this is gonna end up being, though, so yeah...

I'd also like to thank all those who reviewed, and send a message out to those who favourited or alerted this but didn't review; tell me what you think! C'mon! I want to knnnnow!

Happy New Year!

EDIT: Major continuity/character rewrite, again.


	3. III- Making Conversation

III. Making Conversation

General Si, military head of the Ember Group, hummed softly to himself as he glanced over the layer of maps spread across his desk. He leaned forwards, and, very delicately, drew a cross over the Northern Water Tribe in red pencil. Operation Overthrow was running entirely on schedule. Now, then...

There was a knock at the door. Si didn't even need to look up.

"Come in, Quanli."

"General Si? Sir?"

His adjutant stepped softly through the door, a clipboard clutched tight in one hand. Si didn't even need to look him in the face to hear the bad news.

"I take it something's gone wrong with the assassination of the Fire Lord? Do take a seat, Lieutenant Shou."

Shou sat heavily in the proffered chair, casting another worried glance at the clipboard.

"We've just got the after-action report by message tube from our agents in the Capital. Something went wrong."

Si sighed, massaging his temples.

"Go on."

"The assassination team got into place, but the strike was interrupted by- well, the Attuned observers aren't entirely sure. The general consensus is two Earthbenders, which is corroborated by the observing units."

"Dai Lee? Kiyoshi Warriors? Beyond Toph Bei Fong, Zuko hasn't been known to associate with Earthbenders, especially in a bodyguarding capacity."

Shou frowned and glanced over the paper once more.

"That's where it gets strange, General. The Attuned observing all went into shock at the same time, and several suffered severe cerebral haemorraghing. Whatever they observed just burned them out. On top of that- these two Benders were wearing clothing of an unfamiliar design, and- this is the truly bizarre part- they had yellow hair."

Si cocked an eyebrow. For a few seconds the only noise in the room was the soft strains of lute music and the hissing of the gaslights.

"Yellow. Hair. You're sure they weren't albinos? Or wearing masks? I trust the veracity of our observers implicitly, but this is a bit much."

"They were apparently of an unusually pale skin tone, but not albinos. They intercepted the attack against the Firelord, violently disposed of the entire assassination team and the explosive failsafe, and were transported the the Palace unconscious and under guard. The Avatar, the Waterbender and the Firelord all suffered minor injuries, but they are by all accounts alive and well."

Si sat back, fingers steepled.

"Shit. Ah, well."

"General?"

"I'm just irritated that an unexpected variable- whoever these two Earthbenders are- introduced itself into the equation that is Overthrow."

"But sir, even a failed attempt figured into our planning. As long as public confidence in Zuko as a leader wanes, just for a moment-"

"-It means that the likelihood of the collapse of his rule increases. Yes, I know. Nonetheless, it would be much simpler in the long run if he were dead. I've no doubt that he will soon be receiving news of the destruction of the Northern Tribe. During the resulting confusion, he is to be eliminated. I am permitting minimal subtlety in this matter."

"Understood, sir."

"Is General Iroh still missing?"

"Last we heard, sir, yes."

"Good. The further the White Lotus is from all this, the better. Overthrow _will _continue, Quanli. The Ember Group will ensure it."

"Very dramatic, sir."

"Your wit is as biting as always, Quanli."

"I do my best, sir."

* * *

Aang sat up gingerly, one hand clasped over the bandages wrapped around his head.

"Urgh."

"Aang! You're awake!"

Katara hugged him tight, and they sat in silence for a few moments before she pulled back and sat on the edge of the bed.

"What happened, Katara? The last I remember is that bomber running towards us, and now... now I've got an awful headache."

"They were after Zuko. Or that's what his royal guard thinks. You bumped your head pretty bad. The doctors say you've got a bit of a concussion. They've had you drugged and asleep for a day."

"Is Zuko okay? And Mai? And Sokka?"

She smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"They're fine, Aang. Those two Earthbenders stopped the assassins."

"What was up with those guys? My bending went all, all... explodey. I tried to knock someone over, and he just..."

Katara shuddered, and looked away, gritting her teeth.

"I started Bloodbending during the fight. Without realizing it. One minute I was fighting a person, and the next... It wasn't even a full moon."

There was a long silence, and they both hugged each other tightly. Then Katara stood, offering Aang her hand.

"Come on. They'll want to know that you're awake."

He staggered to his feet, wobbling unsteadily.

"I feel like a badger-mole just whomped me over the back of my head."

There was a whoosh of air, and, chittering with excitement, Momo landed on his shoulder. The Avatar reached up a hand to stroke him under the chin, and he squeaked loudly, making Aang wince.

"A little quieter, Momo? I've got a bit of a headache."

Katara beckoned to him from the door.

"Zuko's waiting in the inner gardens."

They arrived after a short walk through the palatial palace grounds. The inner gardens were free from the hustle and bustle of the government offices in the outer gardens; a place for the Fire Lord and his companions to relax, or, in this case, hold private meetings. Zuko lounged on a low stone bench, Mai leaning against his legs, while Sokka had contented himself with a seat at the base of a spreading cherry tree. Noticing Aang and Katara's approach, he got to his feet, beaming.

"If it isn't the might Avatar himself! How're you doing, Aang?"

Aang grinned wryly, and settled himself in the grass.

"I've been better, Sokka. Hi, Zuko! Hi, Mai."

The Fire Lord gave a relieved smile, and a small wave.

"Glad to hear my doctors are earning their pay. They said you'd be fine in a few days."

The Fire Lady gave a slight nod, and the faintest hint of a smile crossed her pale face.

"You kept us waiting. I thought you'd be awake _ages_ ago."

"Good to see you too, Mai."

It took mere minutes for the rest of the group to bring Aang up to speed. Zuko and Katara had both felt the same change in their bending with the arrival of the two Earthbenders; a vast increase in power, but a disturbing loss in control. The two, knocked out by the bomber's detonation, had been placed, under guard, in one of the suites in the guest wing of the palace. Aside from their peculiar hair and skin colour, and the slight malnutrition of one of them, they both seemed entirely normal human beings. Except...

"A metal leg? Like Combustion Man? Could that mean that someone's making more crazy machine-people with weird bending powers?"

"I called in some engineers from the Ministry of Science. They'd never seen anything like it. Something about how it was built directly into the nerves and bone. The metals, the working, everything. It's even got a manufacturer's stamp on it, they think."

Sokka jumped to his feet, his voice rising to a shriek of hysterical melodrama.

"So someone's totally mass-producing them! Some Fire Nation madman is producing an army of machine people to rule the world!"

"Sokka.", Katara said, her voice a hard, flat warning.

"Can't a guy make a joke once in a while?"

"Let Zuko finish."

Sokka was back on the ground before Katara had finished her sentence.

"...Anyways, they found a manufacturer's stamp, but it's in a language unlike any we've seen before. I ordered a traced copy sent to the languages department at the Capital University, but we've heard nothing back."

"They have a language department?", Aang said, frowning, "What's the point? The Airbenders spoke Common more than a hundred years ago, and everyone's still speaking Common today. All the previous Avatars speak Common, too..."

"Yeah, but the voices in your head," Sokka said, poking Aang at the point of his arrow, "aren't necessarily even using the same language we are. They're spirits, aren't they?"

"Yeah, I guess. Still, it bugs me that someone would speak something other than Common. Or write it, even."

They wiled away the afternoon, bickering and talking like the family that they were. No one wanted to acknowledge the events of the previous day- half a dozen human beings had died, torn apart by bending the likes of which made even the Avatar uneasy. Something had changed- slipped, or been altered. They all knew it, but none of them knew what _it _was.

* * *

Al woke slowly, rolling over a few times. His pillow felt... odd. Like it was stuffed with wooden beads or something. Weird. He'd had an excellent sleep, though. Especially after that guy shot at them, and then the other one... blew h-himself up? He sat up very suddenly. This was not a familiar room. Walls and door made of heavy, expensive-looking wood, hung with red-orange silks. Well-illuminated by several slit windows, very high up on the walls. A door to what might be a bathroom. Everything was a shade of red. Very tasteful, maybe a bit ostentatious. His bed was low to the floor, the mattress stuffed with what felt like straw or reeds. A similar bed on the other side of the room held Ed, sound asleep. Silently, Al stood, and tried the door. Locked, from the outside. Then he looked down at himself. Someone had dressed him in a pajama-like costume of red-brown cloth. A realization hit him like a freight train.

"_Mein Gott_. The bastards took my wallet."

Then the absurdity of what he'd just said hit him, and he collapsed on the ground, roaring with cathartic laughter. As he slowly forced his breathing to return to normal, he noticed the faint sound of movement outside the door. Ed was sitting up in bed, looking at him with an extremely confused expression.

"Um... Al?"

He picked himself to his feet, wiping tears out of his eyes. Oh, this was so _weird_.

"Oh, you're awake, Brother. Good. We're locked in."

"Wh-what?"

"I think stopping that explosion knocked us out. I've been awake for a few minutes. It looks fancy, but it's a cell all right."

He waved an arm to indicate the state of the room. Ed nodded slowly, looking just as confused as Al felt.

"Okay, Al. Slow down. And where did your clothes go?"

"We woke up in here," Al said, shrugging, "There's no way out, and I didn't want to wake you up-"

"Okay, relax. I know you're nervous-"

"More confused than nervous, honest."

"-Anyways, it's okay. We've both got... our... alchemy?"

With a gasp, he clapped his palms together, then thumped them against the solid wooden side table. The dark teak surface writhed, a simple cube of wood pulling its way free in a shower of static discharge. Al could only stare in shock. No way...

"Incredible, Brother. Just incredible."

"My alchemy! It's back! So Truth wasn't lying! Something weird really has happened to us!"

Al nodded slightly. This was worrying. And yet oddly familiar.

"These clothes and the furniture almost looks Xingese, but something's off about it. It just feels... _foreign_. Or something. It's different. It's not Amestris, that's for sure."

Ed gave a slow nod.

"You're right. It's like a sound in the back of your ears... or, or something, yeah. I- huh. I gotta go to the can."

"The door's over there. I haven't checked it out yet."

Ed got to his feet, his automail clanking against the wood flooring.

He was on his way to what Al still sort of thought might be a closet, when there was a click from the main door and a small slot opened on its surface. Al caught a brief glimpse of a pair of startled eyes, then the slot closed and the door swung open on silent hinges. Two armoured figures strode inside, one holding a crossbow, the other with bare fists. Their armour looked to be made of painted metal and cloth, following the same colour scheme as the room, but Ed saw no indication of any firearms. The crossbow-armed guard gestured to the door, and said something completely unintelligible in staccato tones. Al stared at him, fixing a look of polite confusion on his face. Re-learning how to use most of your facial muscles carried with it certain perks. Ed's approach was far more direct.

"What."

The statement was repeated, and the guard gestured to the door. The second guard raised his fists; it wasn't an actual martial stance, but it was clearly a threat.

"I can't understand you. And I have to go to the bathroom."

The statement was repeated a third time, and this time the crossbow was raised.

"Ed, I think we should go with them. Really."

"Al..."

" Fine, Brother."

Al took a step forward, raising his hands placatingly. As he spoke, he mimed accordingly.

"You want us", he said, pointing at himself and Ed, "to go with you?" He indicated the guards, then the door. They didn't appear to understand his words, but did nod.

"Wait, please," he held his hand up again, "Ed needs to pee." He gestured towards his brother, then the bathroom, and then mimed fumbling with the crotch of his pants. There was a long awkward silence as Ed tried very, very hard not to laugh. Then the lead guard nodded, slowly.

"Back in a sec.", Ed said. The soundproofing of the bathroom wasn't very good. It was- it was extremely awkward.

* * *

"Fire Lord? The two Earthbenders are awake."

"Really? Bring them here. I'd like to speak with them."

"They're already on their way, milord. But it would appear that, they, uh, can't speak Common."

"What? Are they mutes? Don't we have a translator who can sign?"

"No, milord. It's not that they can't hear or speak, it's that they don't seem to speak or understand Common. At all. They can talk, but it's definitely not Common."

"Huh. Okay, that'll be all."

"Yes, Fire Lord."

The guard sergeant withdrew, only to be replaced by five other members of the Royal Guard, leading the two Earthbenders.

"Guards, you can leave."

"Fire Lord, your safety must be preserved."

"I have the Avatar, a knife expert, and the two greatest warriors of the Southern Water tribe with me. It'll be all right."

"Yes. Sir."

The guards retreated, leaving only the two yellow-haired teenagers, standing awkwardly in the bright sunlight.

* * *

Al observed the five people in front of him, his mind automatically forming images of them. Trying to figure people out was a habit he'd picked up working with Mustang. You had to be able to read people. Just in case they weren't, in fact, people at all. Now he was reading. First, the King. Or Fuhrer. Or General. The one who was in charge. Late teenaged. Messy topknot. Fancy robes. Messy hair, facial scar. Very old burn. Remarkable that his eye was still there, really. Held himself somewhat awkwardly- trying to make himself look bigger than he actually was. So. New to command, then? His woman. Correction, _he_ was _her_ man. Difficult to read. Obviously as well-trained at keeping her emotions in check as Al. Unusually pale- not make up. Held herself as if she was probably armed. Also a fighter. The man- boy, reakky, in blue. Well-built, dark skin. Lots of minor scars. Stains on his hands- maybe working with ink or machines? Some kind of machete or large knife at his waist. Unfamiliar blue-tinged bone or horn. Stood as if used to carrying a sword. Inquisitive expression. Obviously intelligent. Pretty bad at hiding his feelings. Girl in blue. Judging from her posture, close to the youngest, the boy in orange. She looked slightly less hardened than the rest. Emotionally open. Whatever was in the bag around her waist was fairly heavy- it could almost be water. Lastly, the little boy. Peculiar. Fighter's build, as they all had. Bald, blue arrow tattoos- that must have hurt. Recovering from a head injury of some kind. Slightly odd posture, as if he'd suffered a back injury in the past and was still getting over it. Something strange about his eyes. Looked far older than the rest of him. Had a serene, somewhat peaceful air about him. Occupied some important position, almost certainly spiritual. Why were they all so _young_?

"Al?"

He blinked. Ed had just elbowed him in the side, none too gently.

"Sorry, what?"

"I lost you there. Should we, y'know say something?"

He shook himself. A bird sang in the tree. Everything was still, an expectant silence filling the air. Al shrugged.

"Go ahead, brother."

Ed stepped forwards, his bare feet snapping into a rough at-arms stance.

"I am State Alchemist Edward Elric, designated Full Metal, in service to Fuhrer Mustang of the Amestrian State Military! This is my brother and partner, Alchemist Alphonse Elric! We are pleased to meet you."

There was another ringing silence.

"A bit much, maybe? I don't even know if they understood you."

"_Did any of you catch any of that? __Zuko? Aang? Katara? Mai? Anyone?"_, the boy in blue said, utterly bewildered.

"_Nope."_, the girl in red responded, her tone drawling and, Al thought, probably deadpan. The nuances of the language utterly evaded him.

"_Chatty as always, Mai."_, the boy retorted. The girl cocked an eyebrow.

"_Yup."_

Al sighed, grinning apologetically at the five in front of him and shrugging again. That, at least, seemed to be a universal gesture. The girl in blue smiled a little, and there was a general relaxing of tension.

"Okay. Let's try something a little simpler. Um..."

He pointed at himself.

"Alphonse Elric."

Ed, catching on, did the same to himself.

"Edward Elric."

"_What kind of a name is Alu Fon Ze? And is Eluric a title, or what?"_, the boy in Blue huffed, crossing his arms. The little bald boy sighed and rolled his eyes, then did his best to look friendly.

"_Sokka, buddy, please? Okay. I'm _Aang_."_

"U- Ung?"

"_Aang."_

"Eng?"

"_Good enough."_, he said in an encouraging tone. Okay. Al had a name. Eng. Whatever the hell that meant. Al grinned, more enthusiastically this time, as they named themselves. The scarred one in red was Zhuko. His girlfriend was May. The girl in blue was Katala. Or Katara. It was hard to tell. Their 'r' and 'l' noises were almost, but not quite, the same sound. The chatty boy in blue, who, come to think of it looked related to the girl, was Sohka. The younger one in orange was Eng.

"Hey, Al..."

"What, Brother?"

"I've realized something. The language they're speaking, it sounds kind of like Xingese, doesn't it?"

Al nodded slowly. Ed had a point.

"Yes. Yes it does... The names too. May- our May, not this May..."

The pale-skinned girl cocked an eyebrow.

"_They've mentioned my name three times now. Should I be worried, Zuzu?"_

"She taught me a bit of Xingese while I was still in hospital. Apparently a way to introduce myself."

"Heck, it's worth a shot. Go for it."

"Um, okay. Here goes nothing."

He cleared his throat, trying to remember what May had taught him. As he spoke, the expressions on the faces of his audience told him that he probably wasn't remembering it correctly.

"[Polite greeting. I am d-dashingly handsome armoured alchim-damn- alchemist Elric Alphonse. It is an honour to be acquainted with you.]"

There was a beat of awkward silence, whereupon the teenager in blue and the boy in orange began to roar with laughter. May's cocked eyebrow rose even further, Zhuko suppressed a chuckle, and Katala frowned disapprovingly.

"Al, what did you _do_? What did you _say_?"

"I- I- Brother, I swear it was just a greeting! But, come to think of it..."

"Oh no. What happened?"

"Ling visited me for lunch one day, and I said it to him, and he choked on his spaghetti, and he wouldn't stop laughing, and he said something to May in Xingese, and she started blushing, and... oh, _dammit_."

"_Guys..."_

"_Katara, you've got to admit it was pretty funny. Mai, back me up mere!"_

"_No. What your sister isn't saying is right. You're an idiot. Glad we could reach an agreement, Katara."_

Sohka pushed himself into a half-sitting position, taking great gulps of air.

"_D-did he j-just say he was a p-pretty l-little teap-"_

He made eye contact with Eng, uttered a choking sound, and collapsed in a heap, still guffawing uproariously. The bald boy made an equally valiant attempt to control himself, but failed just as quickly. Katala huffed, then lifted a small orb of water out of a nearby pond and, with a wave of her hand, sprayed it across her- brother? Close relative? Definitely related- and Eng. Al gasped. No way. Did she just-

"_Agpth! Katara! Was that really necessary? C'mon!"_

"Did you see that, Brother?"

"That was _not_ alchemy. She doesn't have arrays attached to her fingers, she didn't touch her palms, there was no static effect... I've seen water alchemy, and it's never so, so..."

"So controlled."

"I was gonna say smooth, but yeah."

Ed gestured at her, the spun his hand in a circle, motioning for her to do it again.

"_Katara, I think he wants you to Waterbend again."_

"_Huh. They act like they've never seen it before."_

"_Honestly, given the way they look and talk, I wouldn't be surprised if they haven't."_

Katala smiled encouragingly, and then got to her feet. She settled into a simple, flexible stance, and, taking a deep breath, lifted a melon-sized orb of water from the pond, sending it orbiting around her as she swayed with its movement.

"_Aang! Catch!"_

She threw it towards Eng, and he redirected it with another smooth motion, sending it hissing back. She slowed its movement, and then made an inward motion. With a crackle, the orb of water collapsed into a smaller volume of solid, shining ice. Al's mind was racing. How had she _done_ that? You could manipulate water like that alchemically, but you'd need a lot of small or one very large array, and it would require tremendous amounts of energy to keep it aloft like that. And then there was the problem of heat transfer- if she was using tattoed arrays or the like, she would sear her own skin off every time she froze anything.

"Okay. Definitely not alchemy. Or alkahestry either. Al, we're a long, long way from home."

"How. How?"

"_Wait, if they don't know about waterbending, does that mean that they might not be earthbenders, either? I'm gonna try some earthbending. That's a language we can understand."_

"_Go for it, Aang. Pity Toph isn't here. She'd sort them out."_

"_Or beat them up, Zuko. You know how she is around strange earthbenders."_

Eng stood slowly, apparently still feeling the aftereffects of his head wound. Then, breathing thjrough his nostrils, he dropped into a low, extremely stable-looking combat stance. He stomped one foot, and a column of earth lifted free from the lawn with a tearing noise before dropping back level with the rest of the lawn.

"_Sorry about the lawn, Zuko."_

"_No worries. The gardeners will get it."_

"Okay, that looked more like alchemy, but still, no transmutation arrays, no static, and no clapping of hands. Any idea, Al?"

Al scratched his chin. The Truth inside his mind was flinging up all kinds of outlandish ideas- arrays designed for the manipulation of fluids and solids, some kind of static-assisted gravity nullification setup- all of it complicated and unwieldy compared to what these _children_ were doing.

"It could be a different form of alchemy. Maybe. I really don't know. It's obviously related to breathing and posture- notice how those water-control stances were a lot lighter, whereas the earth stance was planted? It's obviously systematic and regulated somehow. Should we do a demonstration, Brother?"

"I guess so. Nothing flashy, though."

Ed nodded, then clapped his palms together. The air rustled with static buildup. He hit the soil with one hand, then stepped back as he drew a pillar of what Al was fairly sure was solid granite out of the soil. As soon as the static had cleared, Al clapped his palms, placing them both against the slightly warm stone. A moment's concentrationAl formed a circle with his hands, then hit the pillar a second time, crumbling it back into soil. There was another long silence as the electricity in the air crackled away.

* * *

"That was _not_ earthbending.", Sokka said, having scraped his jaw off the floor.

"I-I dunno. We've got to experiment. To see how this works."

Aang raised a clump of dirt, then lobbed it slowly towards the yellow-haired teenagers. The shorter one- Ed Va Dhe, if he recalled, clapped his hands once more, and batted it back to him. As his hands made contact, the earth contracted, becoming a perfect sphere of stone. Aang moved to catch it with Earthbending, but his breath caught in his throat as his vision sharpened again.

Spirits, not _again_!"

The earth beneath him shook, and he winced as sharp spikes seemed to drive themselves into his ankles. He staggered, coming out of his bending stance, and everything rumbled to a halt.

"What just happened?", he said, massaging his legs. They were fine, now, but it had feltl ike the bones were being pulled apart.

Any further discussion was interrupted by a kerfuffle on the deck of the nearest building. Several guards were restraining an elderly man clutching an armful of scrolls, who was desperately struggling to get to the Fire Lord.

"My liege! Please! I must speak with you! It's- it's unprecedented! Fire Lord Zuko!"

Zuko stood rapidly, gesturing to the guards as he stepped past the Elurics.

"Guards, let him pass. Who are you, old man?"

"I am Professor Jenxiang from the Capital University Department of Language Studies! Please, you must allow me to speak with these two men!"

The old man was nearing hysteria, his thin frame quivering as his eyes darted from the Fire Lord, to the guards, to the Elurics, and back to the Fire Lord. He started as Zuko placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Professor. Calm down. What is this about? You think you can speak with them? We've tried and... it didn't work."

He dropped the scrolls unceremoniously, then took off his glasses and began to polish them with an unsteady hand.

"It's not that I can understand them, or speak their language. I just needed to _hear_ it. We took a look at that text sample you sent us. It's, well, it's _unearthly_."

"What, so they're speaking some kind of space language?", Sokka said, as if daring the professor to question him. "Moon speak? I happen to know the Moon, buddy, and she speaks perfect Common."

"What are you-? No. We couldn't decipher their written text, if it is even in the same language, because it literally has no basis in any language that exists or existed on this Earth."

"What do you mean, no basis? I thought every language was linked in some way to another language.", Zuko said, examining one of the scrolls.

"Not this one. I speak seven languages and three dialects, and can read half a dozen more, and can confirm that this written language," here he grabbed a scroll marked with a series of simple, blocky characters, "is in every way unlike our own. Please, I need to hear them talk. If I can get an idea of their spoken language, then I can get an idea of its possible relation to their written language, and then..."

Zuko nodded firmly.

"All right. I understand."

He made an imploring gesture to the Elurics, and mimed talking. There was a brief moment of confusion, until the taller one made an affirmative noise, nodded, and began speaking. Jenxiang listened closely, occasionally nodding. Then, abruptly, he sat down on the grass, pulled a stick of charcoal and a battered notebook from his back pocket, and began scribbling furiously.

"_Um. Talking. Right. Well, as I've said previously my name is Alphonse Elric. Until not long ago, I was a walking talking suit of armour. That's right. A bloody pentagram in a suit of armour. Literally bloody. As in made of blood. It was pretty awful, to be honest. Although immunity to pain and fatigue was nice. So yeah."_

"_Wow. That was informative. Hell, if I'd done that, I would have just sweared at them for a while."_

"_Diplomatic as always, Brother."_

"Hmmm. Many plosives, no fricatives. World length is longer than ours. Probably. I'm noticing less reliance on tone and pitch than in Common. Some of the words seem to be assemblies of other, simpler root words. There's heavy use of what I think might be verb prefixes, too. Interesting. Very interesting."

"So, can you understand it?"

"No, and I won't unless I get regular access to them for several months, possibly years, and can record a complete syntax. You must understand, Fire Lord. I am literally working from the ground up. I am trying to create a simple lexicon from _nothing_. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get to a library, and quickly. I'll be back."

He stood suddenly, gathered up the scrolls, and hobbled away with surprising speed.

"Well that was weird.", Sokka said, sitting back.

"Good to know we've got an entire university to fall back on if we can't solve the language barrier."

"Or at least one crazy professor."

There was yet another awkward silence as Alu Fon Ze stopped talking. One of the Eluric's stomachs rumbled noisily.

* * *

Si closed the report.

"Always a miracle how well the 'nutty professor' routine works, Quanli. Truly."

"Well, General, it does help when the, um, nutty professor has been acting as a sleeper agent in the top circles of Fire Nation academia for thirty-odd years . And I think he's right- these, these Elurics are truly a mystery."

"What was that term they used back during the Schism for threats that could only be understood by the Spirits?"

"An extra-contextual difficulty? Something so beyond the realm of normal problems that it occupies a class all of its own?"

"Precisely. Tell the watchers to keep watching. As far as I'm concerned, gathering further data on these two is our top priority."

* * *

The meal went surprisingly well. Both of the strange teenagers were awkward with chopsticks, but persevered, getting the trick quickly. They were, however, surprised by the spicy Fire Nation food, and consumed prodigious amounts of water and fruit juice in between bouts of panting, gasping, and nose-wiping. Zuko shrugged, nonplussed.

"They act like they've never had chillies before."

Sokka, who was consuming almost as much water as the Elurics, rolled his eyes.

"...Said the man who's been eating them from birth. Y'know, sometimes I crave just plain 'ol bland 'ol whale jerky pemmican. Food so deliciously unflavourful that it makes rice taste like a fine steak."

"Aang, what's up? You're not eating?"

Aang frowned, staring into the bottom of his bowl of soup as if it contained the mysteries of the universe.

"I've had an idea. A way we can talk without knowing their language. Energybending."

"You're gonna take away their not-bending?"

"Not really, no. When I used the Avatar State on Ozai, I broke into his mind just as he broke into mine. For a few seconds I could read his thoughts. It was like our minds, our souls were, were mixed. I think I could do the same to these two. Then at least we'd know who they are, and why they're here."

"Do you really think you can do that at will? I mean last time you almost died, so..."

"Pathik's training really did help. And since my fight with Ozai started my chi flow back up again, I should be able to use his meditation to access the State at will. I think."

Katara put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Well, it's worth a try. But be careful, Aang."

-~0X0~-

This chapter's a bit (okay, very, very) dialogue-heavy. Consider it a breather from the events of last chapter. We're gonna see a lot more linguistic awkwardness between the Elrics and the Gaang before this story's over. For convencience's sake, I am assuming that Amestrian is German, or comparable to German, while Common is similar to Cantonese or Mandarin. Now, I speak neither German nor Cantonese or Mandarin, so if i screw up with trying to give a rough idea of what they sound like, forgive me. And correct me, if you are so inclined and know how. I could use the help. I'm also assuming that the language spoken by the residents of the Avatarverse is fairly homogenous; that, barring accents and regional quirks, everyone speaks roughly the same language. I might go about examining how something like that could happen. Then again, I might not.

Many thanks to everyone who reviewed, favourited and alerted! It's your positivity that keeps me motivated! (I wonder how many times a variant on the previous two sentences has been included in authour's notes at the end of stories. Probably millions. But I digress.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I should have gone to sleep several hours ago, so I will bid you adieu, and again thanks a bunch! New chapter next month!

[Edit Feb. 5th, 2011: Fixed a bunch of grammar/spelling errors, made some minor rewrites.]

[Edit July 1st, 2012: Massive rewrite. Toning down number of POV characters, improving flow of dialogue, rewriting several scenes to fix continuity]


	4. IV- Direct Diplomacy

All true bending masters experienced a certain affinity to their element. Pakku was no exception. The feeling of millions of litres of water flash-boiling hit him like a sack of wet sand. He gasped, hunching convulsively in the tiny cave of ice. His breath frosted against the rough surfaces of the tunnel. He'd dug straight down, piercing through the relatively soft surface ice that was the basis of the Water Tribe capital, and through to the real permafrost; iron-hard ice that hadn't seen the light of day for millennia. He didn't know how deep he was, but he still felt the shockwave judder through the ice.

"Oh, _spirits_."

Even as most of his mind buzzed with panic, a small part of it- the same part that had saved his life countless times in battle- chimed in. The city was mostly empty, wasn't it? Arnook had declared a _potlatch _to celebrate the birth of his second daughter, and most of the people had gone out on barges to watch the kayak racing. He calmed down a little, forcing himself to stop hyperventilating. Another part of his brain, even deeper than the first, whispered that something about it was familiar. That smell. That oily smell. It wasn't just Fire Nation. The Fire Nation burned things, but they didn't spread clouds.

* * *

The boy in orange- Eng- got to his feet, a serious expression on his face. For the second time, Al got the feeling that he had hidden depths; his eyes were too _old_. And those tattoos...? He gestured to Al and Ed, then over to an area of grass that had been untouched by the effects of the alchemy. The rest of the group gathered around , but Al noticed that they all kept a respectful distance. There was a note of wariness in their eyes... and was that fear?

"Brother, I think something important's about to happen."

"You're getting that too? Oh boy."

Eng motioned for them to both sit in an awkward cross-legged stance. Al felt his knees pop, and heard Ed curse under his breath as the joint of his automail protested. Eng kept glancing at the mechanical limb; judging from the general technology level of this place, he guessed that automail was an unfamiliar sight. That said, there was a hint of... familiarity in Eng's eyes. The boy cleared his throat, then began to speak, gesturing as he did so.

"Okay, so it's something about talking...", Ed said, keeping his voice slow and clear.

Ed mimed a similar gesture back, and Eng nodded. Then he touched his forehead, pointed to Al and Ed's, and did the same talking sign.

"Head-talking? Brain-talking?", Al said slowly. This language barrier was a pain.

"Telepathy?", his brother interjected, face set but tone less than serious.

"Ed, this isn't a bad science fiction serial. Be reasonable."

Ed gave him a look that was less than reasonable.

"Al, we just got telealchemically portation'd into what might be a completely different planet.", he muttered, voice tense. "We're surrounded by people who can do incredibly weird things without using alchemy, and they're all armed. It's either telepathy or 'punch everything and hope for the best'."

Al sighed. He had a point.

"Okay, okay. I understand. Be patient. It's going to be okay."

Eng politely waited for them to finish speaking, then made a calming gesture. He began to breathe deeply and regularly, indicating that the brothers should do the same. Al did so. It wasn't entirely comfortable, and he began to feel lightheaded. Any further thought was interrupted when Eng's tattoos began to glow with pale blue light. Ed stumbled upright, yelping, his arms flailing. Al stayed put, although most of his instincts were telling him to run. The orange-clad boy's expression had shifted from serene peace to a sort of statue-like scowl, not entirely similar to those on the masks that Lan Fan had once worn. The boy's eyes opened, and Al gasped as he saw that they were merely solid pools of the same blue light. The _thing_- for what sat across from him was definitely not a boy anymore- leaned forwards, rising out of its meditative seat, and placed its palm against Al's forehead. He gasped in shock as _something_ entered his mind. His vision blurred, and he fell away into a bizarre, abstract landscape.

"_Mein gott._"

* * *

Aang dove into the boy's mind with caution, unsure of what he'd find. It was in every way different from Ozai's. That had been a roaring inferno of ambition and psychosis, tearing at itself, always unstable. This mind was... he wouldn't have used the word mechanical, but that was what it looked like. It was a drifting mindscape of metal and golden lightning, travelling in carefully arranged patterns. As he drifted through the teenager's mind, he tried to project sensations of calm, of safety of reassurance. Nonetheless, he could feel panic, and fear, and a blind desire to strike out; thankfully, they were quickly repressed. The teenager had iron self-control, unlike anything he'd seen before. He projected the concept of _name_, of _identity_, and got _Alphonse Elric_ back. Curiously, there were two images following the name; one was the boy himself, and the other was a suit of armour, brutally angular. He felt a dim shock on his physical body, and pulled out of Alphonse's mind, snapping back to reality. The influence of the other Avatars in his mind distorted his vision, but he could see the course of the commotion clearly enough. The other teenager, the one with the machine leg, was struggling against Sokka and Zuko's hold, trying to get at him. His eyes were filled with blind rage, and Aang was sure that what he was screaming were profanities. Alphonse gasped, returning to himself, and spoke a few cutting words. The other not-bender relaxed a little, glaring at Aang, but nonetheless ceasing to struggle. Aang made eye contact with the other teenager.

"A-Alphonse."

He nodded. Aang raised his hands, and dove back in. Back in the mindscape, he put out more ideas.

"_Ed Va Dhe?"_

"_Edward Elric. Brother. Protector. Friend."_

The disjointed series of images was confusing to sort through, but its meaning was obvious enough. He tried something a little more abstract.

"_Home?"_

"_Amestris. Risembool. Safe. Winry. Pinako. Central. Danger."_

He saw visions of a huge city, paved in stone. The buildings, squarer than he was accustomed to. Flashes of maps. A girl, her hair the same peculiar shade of yellow-brown. A vision of a machine, its surface sparking with lightning. A field of blank whiteness, quickly suppressed. Hundreds of associated thoughts crowded his perception, concepts he couldn't process without a language. Nonetheless, he pressed on.

"_Bending?"_

There was a long pause, along with purple clouds of confusion that drifted among the impossible electrical arcs. The answer, when it came, was hesitant.

"_Bending?"_

"_Bending. Elements. . Power. Gift. Control."_

"_Control. Elements. Alchemy. TRUTH. Alchemy. Power. Danger. TRUTH. Gate. Destruction. Soul. Exchange. TRUTH."_

Whatever the _TRUTH_ was, it was associated with 'alchemy', and both were both powerful and incredibly dangerous. There was a spot of complete blackness, buried deep within Alphonse's mind, and when Aang tried to approach it, he was quickly rebuffed by _ARMOR_. The mindscape resounded as barriers of thought-metal clanged tight over the point of darkness and flung him back into the outer layers the teenager's mind. There was a note of warning, of reproach. _TRUTH _was not to be approached. Aang continued to drift through his memories and thoughts, feeling the link between them grow more efficient as they came to understand the workings of each other's minds.

"_Speech? Language? Talk? Understanding?"_

"_Desire for comprehension. Understanding of basic concepts. Learning."_

"_Gift. Teaching. Caution. Danger. Willing?"_

"_Yes. Necessity of risk."_

Aang concentrated, reaching into his own mind, and pulling at what he thought was _Language_. Reaching into Ozai to pull out _F__ire_ had been a matter of brute force- quenching the fires of Ozai's mind just long enough to destroy what fuelled them. This was more difficult. More invasive, but also more delicate. Hundreds of Avatars in his mind chattered and argued, building up towering pillars of consensus and opinion which shifted constantly. A multitude of voices, each with something to say. Slowly, they reached an opinion. Bring his concept of _Language _to Al's. Let them co-mix and mingle.

"_Comprehension?"_

All he got back from Alphonse was mental static as the patterns in the electricity shifted. Then Aang felt it too. Learning. Comprehension. Amestrian. It was like being a child, learning to talk, but all so _quickly_. His mind was flooded with information. He pulled back from Alphonse, resurfacing in the real world, gasping and shivering as his mind screamed, trying to compensate from a literal overdose of knowledge. The boy across from him was pale and shivering, and Aang, beneath his mental anguish, could feel his body protesting. He locked eyes with Alphonse- wait. A sliver of information dragged itself into his brain. Al. Just Al. He locked eye with Al, and there was an expectant silence. The yellow- _no, blonde_- haired boy licked his lips, drawing in a shuddering breath.

"Y-you... unders-stand?"

Aang couldn't help but beam as he nodded. Al smiled back, giggling nervously. Then he spoke to his brother.

"Ed- brain- speech- know- talk- understand- all right!"

Aang's understanding was still spotty, his brain trying to match up what it had learned to what it was hearing. He had to force himself back into a Common-speaking mindset before he could continue.

"Guys, it worked! I got into his head, and he can understand us!"

Sokka pumped his fist.

"Yes! Score one for team Avatar!"

"Avatar? What... is- is that?", Al said, obviously trying extremely hard to get the tones right. Aand could understand his confusion. Their language- Amestrian. It was so- so atonal. There was no music to it. No pitching, no rhythm. It was guttural. In some ways, more complex.

Al cocked his head. Aang made a placating gesture.

"Hold on. We've got a lot to explain, but we've got to get your brother talking."

Al nodded, slowly.

"Y-yes. Ah, I, uh, understand. Wait."

He stood up, shakily, and...

"Brother. Sit down. He's- help. -a threat. It's more like telepathy- were right."

Ed scowled.

"No way. I'm not letting him- my mind. It's unnatural. You saw- glowing. Like- homunculus."

Al fixed his brother with a cold stare, put his hand on the shorter boy's shoulder, and actually _pushed _him to the ground. He turned to Aang and gave an apologetic grin.

"Ed- is- is- difficult. Stubborn. Sometimes."

Ed said something too fast to follow, and Al snapped back at him.

"_Brother_. Now is _not _the time."

Aang swallowed, realizing he wasn't entirely clear what language he was hearing anymore. He forced his lips into the uncomfortable shapes of Amestrian.

"Relax. I-it will be fine. Ed, I need to s-see the inside of your mind."

Ed only scowled more, but he did allow Aang to place his hand on his forehead and only jumped a little when he went back into the Avatar State. Ed's mind was eerily similar to his sibling's. Instead of lightning and metal, it was lightning and stone. Weirdly spiky stone statues actually, all monster-looking. Very skeletal. His brain told him _gothic_. Unlike Al's mind, there were two black pits of danger; one was _Truth_, the other... Aang tried very hard not to laugh, but his suppressed amusement earned him a needle of anger from Ed.

"_Short? Really?"_

"_NO NO NO."_

"_O-kay. Should be able to words. Understand?"_

"_Y- can hear- sense- not- short."_

"_My words, your head?"_

"_..."_

"_My words, your head? Please?"_

"_Fine."_

The transition of information was much less jarring now that Aang knew what he was doing, but when he dropped out of Ed's mind, and the Avatar state, he found the Amestrian panting and sweating just as much as his brother.

"Ed? Al? You can understand me? Yeah?", Aang said, licking his lips.

Al, who'd regained much of his colour, nodded once more, with much more enthusiasm.

"I understand you, Aang."

"Woah. This is. Woah woah woahaaaargh.",

Ed dry-heaved, his hands clasped over his mouth. After a few frantic seconds, he seemed to regain his composure, clamping down on his nausea with an stony wall of stubborn composure.

"Brother!" Al was in close, one arm wrapped tightly against his older sibling.

"Wait. I- I'm okay. Oh _gott._"

The word wasn't in Common, but Aang knew that its connotation was somewhat similar to 'spirits'. Or, in this case something far ruder.

"I'm not even speaking Amestrian, am I Al."

"Nope."

"B-but now I am."

"Yep."

"Okay wow this is so weird. Are you sure we're not dreaming?"

Aang couldn't resist a smile as he spoke, switching automatically to the guttural Amestrian.

"You're not dreaming, Edward Elric."

Ed took a deep breath.

"Okay. I can understand you. You can all understand me?"

The reactions in the group were mixed. Sokka smiled his most enthusiastic 'I just discovered something neat' smile. Zuko nodded, grinning. Katara beamed warily. Mai... raised a single eyebrow.

"Yep."

"Yes! Nice to talk to you!"

"Wow. You're actually talking!"

"Hmph. Neato."

"They can understand you, Brother."

Aang stood up, feeling the scar on his lower back twinge a little.

"We've got a lot to talk about, you two."

* * *

Pakku gasped when he hit the sea; the water was _warm_, clouded with detritus and soot. He launched towards the surface, rising out of the brackish sea on a column of foam. The city... the city was _gone_. The immense walls, the elegant buildings, the graceful bridges; all vanished, subsumed into a gigantic circular crater filled with filthy sea water. The air was surprisingly clear; there was a faint haze of smoke and a thin, clammy fog of evaporated water. Pakku floated to the nearest approximation of solid ground; it was the wreck of the docked Fire Nation airship, its spars and frame protruding from the water like the bones of a beached whale. The whole structure creaked when he transferred his weight on to it, but it seemed stable enough. His mind was completely blank; shocked beyond comprehension. It was all _gone_. He was shaken from his reverie by the sounds of movement, deeper in the wreckage. Swinging himself over a beam, he clambered down into the hulk of the airship, working his way around jagged spikes of metal and huge sheets of torn hull material.

"H-help. Anyone? Oh, Agni."

The voice emanated from under a collapsed beam. Pakku hefted it aside, gasping at what he saw underneath.

"You're Fire Nation."

"Oh thank the spirits you found me. I- I think I'm okay, but what happened?! Oh Agni, the airship! What happened?!"

"You're _Fire Nation_."

"Yeah, and? I- I'm just an engineer! H-hey!"

"Fire Nation airships destroy my city, and you think you can claim innocence! You're _dead_!"

Ignoring the protests and cries of the engineer, Pakku moved in, jagged shards of ice whipping around him.

"_Master Pakku of the Water Tribe. Stop this."_

He was brought to a dead halt, the ice falling out of the air. The hole in reality was stable, regular, its barriers defined by a simple set of incorporeal wooden gateposts. The Fire Nation trooper gawped.

"What the hells-?"

Pakku killed him with a gesture, moving closer to the gate. The figure on the other side was faint, only the fuzzy impression of two huge, liquid eyes visible.

"_Pakku, the Ember is moving. We need you here, now."_

"B-but the city! The spirits! Oh, Sedna! Tui and La!"

"_They will be fine. We've maintained security over the Spirit Oasis The safety of the Water Tribe is secondary at this point. The city is merely a city. Transfer over _now_."_

"I'll need to speak to Arnook. Do we have word from any of the other elders?"

"_They are being gathered. You do not have time. We are expanding the gateway. The Order of the White Lotus is going to war."_

Pakku felt the metal beneath his feet slip away. He was falling.

* * *

General Zuolin popped the hatch of the H-Yi, feeling the gritty desert wind play across his sand goggles. Before him stretched the vast expanse of Earth Army Base Si Wong. The military heart of the Earth Kingdom, home of the advanced technologies which he himself had pioneered. The heavy tank churned its way across the dunes, its wide, stone-coated tracks kicking up a spray of sand. Everything seemed to be clear. Just dunes. He turned back, noting the other two H-Yis in formation. The field tests were going well. There was the flash of a signal flag.

[Confirm live weapons?]

He seized the multicoloured flags from their sheaths, and gave a quick wave back.

[Confirm. Three minutes.]

He ducked back into the cupola, screwing the hatch shut behind him. The interior of the tank was dimly lit by the luminescent green crystals bolted to the walls, and he had to duck to avoid the low-hanging ballista bolt rack as he made his way to the driver's position. The cramped space was filled with the continuous clanking and rumble of the earthbending engine in the back- a thin granite disk, set spinning by the actions of the two earthbender engineers.

"Driver?"

"Yessir."

"Slow to combat speed. We're starting the live fire tests momentarily."

Zuolin moved into his command couch, clipping himself into the seat.

"Full battle stations. Run out the ballistae. Non-earthbending weaponry only."

The last order was redundant; they hadn't loaded the tanks with any stone except for the granite plates built into the armour. Nonetheless, the crew bustled to life. The hatches on the forward and rear turrets were cranked open as the bow crews pushed the Fire Nation-designed automatic ballistae forwards, their throwing arms clipping on to the stabilisers built into the walls of the turrets. The racks of bolts were clipped in, and the bowmen moved to their spotting position. The signalman/spotter popped up into the rear cupola, keeping a careful eye on the other two tanks in the formation

"Sir, units 2 and 3 are readied and in formation. First target is coming up at 275 degrees, range 250."

The targets were a series of tall, irregular boulders the crews of the tanks had left behind on their previous trial run, ready to be used as target practice.

"Bowmen, load blasting-tipped bolts. Fire when ready."

The two ballistae fired, humming and cracking as their bolts were launched. There was a muffled explosion, and...

"Five direct hits. Second shot from unit 3 was a little short."

Zuolin nodded.

"Good. Move to second target, prep for rapid-fire. Let's see if these autoloaders actually work."

* * *

Tanker Sergeant Oi Hara sighted down the periscope, twiddling the sighting knob. Switching to the optigraph station, he flashed out a quick confirmation message to the other five tanks in the Ember Group Roaring Dragon-class squadron. Satisfied by the response, he switched back to the main periscope.

"Kego, load a PAC shell. Keep the pressure at 950 pascals. Chiha, left fifteen degrees, elevation... hmmm. Seven degrees?"

The projector operator, Chiha, leaned to the periscope.

"Give it seven point two. Just to be sure. Aaaand... Range one and a half kilometres."

He dialled in the elevation on the steam projector's mount as Oi rotated the turret, the steam-powered hydraulics hissing as it rotated. Oi glanced down at Teke in the driver's seat.

"Get ready to get into motion to hit them from the rear. We need to be moving as soon as the shells've left the projectors."

The driver nodded, giving one last check over the controls in his piloting blister.

"Gotcha, sarge."

Oi turned back to the periscope, and saw the flash of the optigraph from the command tank.

"Fire!"

The turret shuddered as Chiha punched the trigger, sending a six-centimeter wide shell hurtling towards the Earth Kingdom heavy tanks. There was a brief puff of smoke as the shots impacted, but nothing more.

"Looks like it bounced. Damn. All right, load blasting shells, fire when ready. And get us moving!"

The tank clanked to life, its powerful steam engines sending it surging forward. The cabin space was filled with the clanking of treads and the puff of the engines, forcing Teke to yell.

"Sergeant, we're coming around now. Still well out of range of their ballistae, by the looks."

Kego plunked a red-marked shell into the chamber of the projector, then turned back to the engine control panel. He opened the boiler, and gave the fire roaring within a quick burst of his Firebending.

"Shell's loaded. Steam tanks will be ready any second!"

There was a short, peeping whistle from the mass of tubing that surrounded the steam projector. Chiha hit the trigger.

The second volley from the tank squadron was nowhere near as accurate as the first, but it didn't need to be. There was no burst of white smoke, this time. If the huge, roiling clouds of flame and smoke were any indication, the other commanders had done the same as Oi and loaded the blasting-jelly shells.

* * *

"So. You're something like our benders. And your country, Amestris, used you guys as soldiers. And you overthrew your crazy leader before he could kill everyone in your country and become a god. And now you're stuck here."

"Yep. That's about right."

Sokka just blinked at Al, letting out a long, slow breath.

"Wow, and I thought we had it rough."

As the sun set, they'd moved inside, and had taken up residence in one of the smallish, but opulently comfortable, suites that dotted the Fire Lord's palace. Ed was sprawled lazily on a pile of cushions, while Al sat next to him, trying his hand at writing the Common script.

"There's more to it than that, Brother. Um, Katara, that does spell 'My name is Alphonse', right?"

Katara took the sheet of paper from him, glancing over it and handing it back with a pleased expression on her face.

"Very good! You're learning fast!"

"Katara, you're being a mom again.", Zuko said wryly.

"Zuko...", she tisked back.

There was a polite knock at the door, and it slid open, revealing two palace guards and a very dishevelled-looking man in water tribe dress. If his sickly visage and baggy eyes were any indication, he obviously hadn't slept in some time. The lead guard ushered him forwards.

"Firelord, this man's ship just arrived in harbour, along with the partial crew of one of our courier airships. He has a message from Arnook of the Northern Water Tribe."

Zuko was on his feet in an instant.

"This isn't normal. Something's gone wrong. What happened? Oh, spirits, what happened?"

The sailor gulp, then began to speak, his voice tired but frantic.

"My name is Iluq. I'm the vice-chief of a Northern Water tribe warband. It happened about a week ago. We were making our way to the _potlatch_ to celebrate the birth of High Chief Arnook's daughter. We were an hour out of harbour, heading to the mouth of the Cikuq river where the gathering was gonna be, when... there was this blast of sound, and light, and heat. Then there was a wave. I- it swamped us, but we managed to get the boat upright. The wave had come from the city. We- we went back, and oh spirits, it's gone. The- the whole city is gone. Just a great big hole in the sea."

There was a horrified silence. Katara broke it.

"What about the tribe? Is everyone all right?!"

Iluq nodded, his lower lip trembling.

"I- we think so. The city was b-basically empty, except for the guards and the traders at the airship docks. Our ship was one of the last out. We were going to wait for Pakku, but he said that he'd catch up with us l-later, and..."

"Master Pakku! Is he all right?", Katara gasped.

"We don't know. No one's found him."

There was another horrified silence. It was Aang's turn to break it, this time.

"What about the Spirit Oasis? Tui and La?"

"And Yue!?", Sokka interjected, voice on the edge of breaking.

"According to Arnook they're all right. I saw nothing, sir."

"But why did you come here?", Zuko queried.

"A-Arnook and the tribe came back. Most of the ships had been pretty banged up, but ours was still seaworthy. He ordered everyone to go south, to spread the word. We brought the Firebenders back, too."

He fumbled in a pocket of his grimy parka, removing a thin scroll. Wordlessly, he handed it to Zuko. The Fire Lord read it, his face hardening into a grim mask.

Fire Lord Zuko,

I have never met you in person, but I hear from my ambassadors and from the Avatar himself that you are a peaceful man. The events which my messenger has recounted to you are a display of warlike intent unlike any I have ever borne witness to. I am aware that the destruction of my city was done by airships of a type similar to those formerly used as weapons of war by your father. The Firebenders caught in the blast claim that they knew of no military airships in the world. I am tempted to believe them. I do not believe you capable of such a heinous act of destruction and unprovoked aggression. As such, it is my intention to aid you as best I can in order to hunt down and destroy those who have committed this grave crime. Nonetheless, should it become apparent to me that the army of the Fire Nation was responsible for the actions against my people, I will not hesitate to reopen hostilities with your kingdom. My tribe does not let acts of murder and wanton destruction go unpunished.

-High Chief Arnook

* * *

_Clank. WHAM!_

Oi shook in his seat as another explosive ballistae bolt bounced off the Roaring Dragon's thick armour and exploded in midair.

"Anything?"

Kego shook the sweat from his soot-stained face, loading another plate-cleaving shell.

"No damage! Again! The engines are holding strong, tracks seem good, loading is fine. Heck, they're barely even scratching us! Although we are running low on shells..."

Teke wrenched the control stick, sending the tank in a barely controlled slide as another ballistae bolt whirred by it.

"How you holding up in the cockpit?"

"Just fine, sarge! There's a crapload of shrapnel and sand, though. I have to keep the fire slits cranked pretty tight."

Oi leaned back to the periscope, glancing at the scene of the battle. It was a complete stalemate. The heavier Earth Kingdom tanks couldn't hope to damage or outmanoeuvre the lighter Ember Group, while the more advanced Ember Group vehicles couldn't hope to damage the tremendously thick stone-and-metal plating on their opponents. The Earthbenders hadn't used any stone, yet; that at least was a spiritsend. They weren't pulling back, or making any move to retreat. A remarkably stupid decision.

"How many shells do we have left? Teke, check that the gyroscopes are still okay."

"Three each of blasting and plate armour cleaving. We've also got ten rounds of the canister shot, but since there's no infantry..."

The driver flicked a few levers, then gave an affirmative gesture.

"Gyros are running fine, especially given the amount of sand we've picked up. If they earthbend..."

Oi cut him off him with a gesture, then toggled the optigraph.

"Okay, looks like we're moving on to plan B. Drive them back. We're to throw down smoke, then pull back and let the artillery clear out the rest. Teke, let's go."

The tank made another swerving turn, and Oi pulled the two knobs marked 'smoke' on a nearby control panel. There was a sharp _crack_ as the smoke bombs mounted to the outer hull were launched outwards by blasts of compressed steam, then a softer _whoomph_ as they exploded, filling the air with grey-black smoke. By the time the shells and rockets began to rain down from the sky, Oi's tank was long gone.

* * *

Zuolin realized that he was grasping the arms of the command couch with enough force to cut his hands. He forced himself to let go, taking a long, juddering breath. After the continuous thunder of the sudden tank attack, the silence was eerie.

"Damage report!"

One of the earthbenders was making his way around the inside of the hull, closing the cracks in the granite plating with solid jabs of his arms. When Zuolin spoke, he looked up, and the general was shocked to see that his face was riddled with tiny cuts; hundreds of stone shards had pierced his face, leaving him bruised and bleeding despite the thick leather armour he wore.

"Sir, we're still running, and the tracks are holding up fine, but the outer armour's badly dented, and we've had major shrapnel from the inner armour. It'll hold if they come back, though."

One of the loaders leaned down into the body of the tank.

"Engineer, there's a bad crack in the rotation ring up here. If we don't get it fixed it'll fail the next time we –"

There was an infernal screech, and then the entire tank was rocked by a massive explosion. Then another. And another. Sound vanished as Zuolin was thrown this way and that, battered about the inside of the tank. Chunks of stone tore at his body, knocking the breath out of him. He couldn't understand it. The cacophony. The flames.

Oi rested draped his legs over the steam projector, grinning as he held the binoculars to his eyes. The whistle of artillery and the screech of rockets was constant, drowning out even the chugging of the steam engines of six separate tanks.

"Hey, Nut!"

Nutarniq, the commander from the next tank over, cocked his head, unwilling to remove his binocular-clad eyes from the explosive spectacle several kilometres off.

"What, Oi?"

"I just realized: those poor sods have never been through an artillery barrage before."

"Ouch. Say, can I borrow some of your water?"

Pulling the canteen from his belt, Oi opened it, and Nutarniq bent some of the water out of it and into his own.

"It's gonna be a little stale."

"As long as its not covered in sand. Spirits, a little salt water would do this place some good."

With a clatter of tracks, a third tank pulled up next to theirs. The top hatch clanked open, and a woman with short hair and a prominent blue tattoo on her forehead popped her head out.

"Guys, we've got to get back to base. Owl's locking things down now that the strike's over."

She was right; the artillery had tapered off.

"And are you seriously leaving your crews to stew in metal boxes while you guys catch the breeze? C'mon, guys."

Oi laughed, wrapping a companionly arm around the periscope protruding form the turret.

"Nah, they've got a plenty good view. Ain't that right, guys."

The muffled response from the hull speaking tube wasn't nearly as joking as Oi was.

"Someone just forfeited his rum ration tonight. You enjoy the breeze all you like."

Nutarniq huffed.

"Breeze, yeah right. Oi, you've got the heat. Sangmu, you've got the wind. And me? Dehydration. Feh."

The three tanks trundled across the wide dunes, heading towards a distant shining spire.

-~0X0~-

This is a minor update to a chapter which I'm well aware has far too much tanking and not nearly enough plot. The additions I've made should help, at least somewhat.


	5. V- Face the Music

"Zuko, what does it say? Zuko?"

Katara was half on her feet now, and, though Al still had no idea what was going on, only a simpleton would fail to realize that something extraordinarily important had just happened. Iluq said nothing, although he did stare at Ed and Al with something between disgust and fascination. Apparently blond hair wasn't a thing you saw frequently in the Four Nations. Al got to his feet, curious.

"Zuko? What is happening, please?"

The Fire Lord didn't seem to hear him. He handed the letter to Katara, and then strode out, forcing the guard and Iluq to hastily scramble out of the way. As he broke into a power-walk that was almost a jog, everyone in the room piled out to follow him, the air filled with a cacophony of confused questions.

"Zuko? Zuko!"

"Buddy, c'mon! Tell us?"

"What is it, Zu-"

When Zuko spoke, it was with frightening strength: his barking orders chastened everyone into silence.

"Iluq, come with me. Guard, sound an emergency meeting. Get the High Command assembled. Find War Minister Qin. And ready one of the fast airships, _now_."

Without a word, the guard hurried off, and only seconds later a low throbbing alarm resounded across the palace grounds. There was the sound of distant yelling, and torches were lit all across the vast building as it stirred into life. The palace had been winding down as night fell: now it was a veritable hive. Aang caught up to Zuko, shouldering his way past Al with a low "sorry".

"Zuko! What's going on? What did that letter say? Answer me!"

The Fire Lord cast him a quick glance, but didn't stop.

"I'll tell you in the throne room."

* * *

They reached what Al construed to be the throne room, a long pillared hall with a high dais at one end and a long, low table set down the middle. Dozens of servants and orderlies scurried about, lighting torches and laying out a huge map, which caught both Al and Ed's eye.

"So that's the world, yeah Al?"

"Seems like it, Brother."

"What was that line from that movie? 'Fritzie, we certainly aren't in Amestris anymore'?"

"Sounds about right."

Zuko settled himself on the covered dais, gesturing for his companions to find seats as best they could. Then he seemed to shake himself, getting back up and pacing back and forth in front of the throne.

"Where are those damned generals!"

Settling themselves in against the granite and polished metal of the dais, Al and Ed took a corner of the dais, settling in to wait.

"Brother, that's a king if I ever saw one."

"Yeah, looks like he and Bradley would've gotten along just fine."

There was a growing clamour from outside, and a large group of middle-aged men, and one slightly younger woman, stormed in, most in sleeping clothes or partial states of hasty dress. Zuko motioned them to take their places around the table, forestalling them when they began to bow ceremonially.

"I've called you here because I've just received word of an attack on the Northern Water Tribe. A little over a week ago, several airships destroyed the Capital."

Iluq broke in, apparently too tired to care that he was interrupting royalty.

"Three airships, Fire Lord."

Zuko gave him a brief glare, then nodded.

"Thank you. Three airships have destroyed the Capital. It appears casualties were minimal, as the city was mostly empty at the time. Nonetheless, Chief Arnook is threatening military action unless we can demonstrate that the airships who committed this- this crime against peace were not ours. I- We have worked too hard to build this peace only for it to come crashing down around our ears, and I will not fight another stupid war."

There was a babble of shouting and yells as the High Command absorbed the news. There were recriminations, denials, accusations, but Zuko only allowed one person to address him directly. The woman, clad in an elegant suit of dress robes, hastily tied. She stood when Zuko gestured at her.

"Sky Admiral Ying. What is the current status of our airship fleet? We are the only people in the world who have airships, are we not?"

She bowed briefly, her heavyset face deadly serious.

"The fleet is scattered sir, running the courier routes assigned to them after the Armistice. We have twenty five light _Comet_-class destroyers, fifteen of the _Star_-class cruiser airships, and one of the _Phoenix Lord Ozai _- class heavy air battleships. Of those, only one ship is armed for combat."

"We still have a combat-capable airship? Which one? I thought I had ordered the disarmament of the fleet after the Armistice. Oh, and please have those battleships renamed. I don't want to be reminded of my father's crimes any more than I have to be."

"N-no sir. We'll have the class designation wiped from the records. And sir, I didn't say combat-capable. I said armed. The second of the _Phoenix Lord_- sorry, sir, the uh, battleships is almost completed in dry docks, and it is armed with autoballistae and fully functional bomb racks, but it would take several month's worth of work to get it airworthy. Production was halted by Article 5 of the Armistice. So we're effectively disarmed, sir."

"And no airships have reported anything unusual? Nothing's gone off course lately? No sightings of other airships? No disappearances?"

"Well, one of the _Comets_, the _Leaf on the Wind_, did stray off its courier route about a week ago-"

"Where did it go? Was it anywhere near the North Pole?"

"-I was going to say, sir, that it strayed off its route to pick up a large cargo of bootleg alcohol and what we think are several very large crates full of, uh-"

Ying cast a glance over the assembly, and Al saw that, despite her composed expression, she was trying not to look embarrassed.

"Well? Full of what? This is important, Sky Admiral."

"Full of what we think are extremely pornographic art scrolls from the eastern Earth Kingdom. Have you ever heard of Tsya's _Art of the Ancient Temple_?"

There was an awkward silence. Zuko coughed, blushing crimson. One of the generals stifled a giggle, which he hurriedly turned into a dignified throat-clearing. Ying doggedly continued.

"But anyway, Lord, they were nowhere near the North Pole. And the crew _was_ severely punished. If there were airships involved as Chief Arnook claims, they weren't ours."

Iluq broke in again.

"There were airships. We don't know if they were Fire Nation airships, but we do know that they were big, they flew, and they dropped enough incendiary explosives to level an entire city."

Zuko pondered this for a moment.

"War Minister Qin, what are the chances that someone else has developed airships with capabilities similar to ours?"

The War Minister stood, his neat topknot and goatee slightly offset by the florid pink pajamas he wore.

"Frankly, Fire Lord, quite slim. The only person with the technological capabilities would be the Mechanist at the Northern Air Temp-"

Aang was on his feet in an instant, breaking in for the first time.

"The Mechanist would never design weapons of war! Especially not military airships!"

Qin gave a cold nod.

"With all due respect, Avatar Aang, it's happened before. We both know that the Mechanist has been... _persuaded_ in the past. But as I was saying, Firelord, airships are unlikely. Light war balloons would be fairly easy for anyone with a basic knowledge of textile-making and steam power, but fully functional airships require access to facilities which can process and mould sky iron."

Qin paused, collecting his thoughts, and Al took the opportunity to break in.

"What is sky iron? A metal?"

Qin cocked an eyebrow.

"Fire Lord, who is this boy with the bizarre hair? Is he to be privy to military secrets?"

Zuko nodded.

"Keep going, War Minister."

"If you really must know, Sky Iron is a strong but flexible metal with a density similar to-"

The last word was gibberish to Al.

"I'm sorry, similar to what?"

"You know, -. It's a metal, bonds with – to form salt, reacts explosively with water."

The lexicon that Aang had taught him didn't include chemistry, but Al did his best.

"Sodium?"

"Yes. Sky iron is as hard as steel and has a density comparable to sodium. It's the main structural component for all of our airships. Any heavier and they'd just fall out of the sky. The problem, Fire Lord, is that sky iron requires incredibly high temperatures to forge. The kind of temperatures you'd only find in a Firebender's blast furnace or-"

"Or the Mechanist's workshops. Thank you, War Minister."

Zuko turned to face the High Command, steeling himself.

"I am leaving tonight for the Northern Water Tribe, and I am bringing the Avatar and his compatriots with me. We're going to meet with Chief Arnook personally, and see if we can sort this mess out."

* * *

Thirty minutes later, a light _Comet_ airship left the Palace, a somewhat bewildered Appa hanging his tail out a rear hatch. Giving the sky bison one last pat on the head, Aang closed the door, his eyes readjusting to the dim red light that suffused the airship. Then, turning, he worked his way to the cockpit, occasionally stumbling over the girders and pipework that lurked at ankle-level. T he _Comet_, which was apparently named the _Wind Chariot_, was cramped and uncomfortable, even by Fire Nation standards. Despite being a vehicle intended for the Royals, it was not luxurious: the bomb bays and Firebending emplacements had been stripped away, making room for a fourth set of engines, and most of the body was taken up by huge coal dust hoppers and cargo bays: it was a ship perfectly capable of flying around the world, faster than Appa, without any need to stop or refuel.

Climbing down a ladder onto the belly of the airship, he arrived at a thick door leading onto the observation room directly below the cockpit. The room was the only concession to the royals using the vehicle: a bulbous collection of windows, couches and folding tables, equipped with a small but functional bathroom and a compact kitchen. Packed into it were Katara, Zuko, Sokka, Ed and Al. Mai had outright refused to come, claiming that airships made her nauseous, and that 'politics are even more dull than hanging around here.' Aang thought he might be able to see the logic, anyways. Though she and Zuko weren't married or anything, Mai was the Fire Lady in all but name. She could hold the fort while they were gone.

Swinging the door shut, Aang collapsed onto one of the thickly pillowed seats, blinking sleepily out the panoramic windows. The sea stretched beneath them, a faint layer of cloud blocking out the stars above. He was alone in the capsule, save for Sokka's discordant snoring. The older boy was sprawled across a bench in the bottom half of the capsule. Thankfully, his continuous '_snnnnrkh-heeehh_' was mostly drowned out by the buzzing rumble of the airship's engines. The door opened softly, and Aang turned, smiling tiredly when he saw who it was.

"Hey Katara."

She shuffled in next to him, yawning softly.

"Hey Aang. We should both be asleep, shouldn't we?"

"Yeah-"

He stifled a yawn. Maybe they were contagious after all.

"I just had to check on Appa. The engineers rigged up a place for him to rest in the rear cargo bay, and I wanted to see if he was doing all right."

"Okay, I understand. Do you have any idea what Ed and Al are up to? I was walking by their bunks, and I heard them talking. Also, the sound of paper moving. Do you know what's up with them? Because they're definitely not asleep."

Aang rubbed his eyes, settling closer against Katara. She was very warm, and very close, and very soft- he stopped that train of thought.

"Aang?"

"Oh. Right. Sorry. Ed and Al, yeah. They really wanted to see those books that appeared when they did. Some side effect of the... science magicky alchemy thing that sent them here."

Katar smiled teasingly.

"Sciency magicky alchemy? You must be _really_ tired if you're starting to talk like Sokka."

Aang laughed, much louder than he'd intended, but clamped a hand over his mouth when Katara's brother stirred, mutter something about jerky, and rolled over.

"Whoops. Ed looked through a few of them, and he and Al started talking really fast in Amestrian. It was way too technical for me to keep up."

Katara sighed, staring away into the distance.

"I dunno, Aang. They seem nice, and you did get inside their heads, but this all seems so sudden. Two days ago, someone tried to _kill_ us. And then two people from another- another _world_ show up, and suddenly the Northern Water Tribe's been destroyed, and, and..."

She shuddered, struggling not to cry. Aang hugged her closer.

"Katara..."

She took a deep breath, gulping.

"Aang... when we were fighting off those assassins, and Ed and Al's Alchemy threw off our bending... I- I _killed _someone. I killed a man. I pulled all of his blood out and watched him t-turn to dust in front of me. I mean I'm sure I've killed people- with Waterbending you can never be sure, but- but- I saw his eyes. I saw the pain and the fear and that moment when the spark went out of his eyes. And I-"

"Katara, it's okay-"

She was speaking in gasps now, crying harder than Aang had ever seen her cry.

"You don't understand, Aang. I- I _enjoyed it_. Some twisted part of me just- just _laughed._ It was like when Hama m-made me bloodbend. It was a, a _thrill_. I feel- I feel like a monster. Like Azula!"

Aang held her, unsure of what to say.

"K-katara, I know I'd like to be able to say something wise, or smart, or avatar-y, but I can't. But I will tell you this. You are kind, and you're sweet, and you're a good person, and I love you, and you're not a monster."

He ran a hand through her hair.

"And you are nothing, _nothing _like Azula."

They sat in sad silence for some time, Katara weeping softly. Then she screwed her resolve to the sticking-place, looking Aang in the eyes. She was beautiful, in a red-eyed puffy sort of way. Aang smiled reassuringly.

"Thanks, Aang. It means a lot to me. I- we should go to bed. It's late."

They left the room in comfortable silence, leaving Sokka to snore away in blissful oblivion.

* * *

Al squinted at the diagram in the harsh red light, his pencil scratching away in his notebook as he copied down a diagram for a simple rifle bore. He and Ed were burning the midnight oil, an activity he wasn't... entirely unfamiliar with. For Al, copying complicated diagrams out of books at odd hours of the night was an old pastime, although they were normally alchemical diagrams, not blueprints. He sat back, careful not to bang his head on the low ceiling of the bunk, and rubbed his eyes.

"How's it going, Brother?"

When Ed spoke, he didn't look up from the book he was copying notes out of.

"Not bad. I've got the internal combustion engine and petroleum refining done, and I've just gotten started on gunpowder. How's the diagram end coming?"

Al sighed, shuffling through his (now filled) notebook, as well as the scrolls of paper he and Ed had borrowed from one of the Fire Lord's scribes. They were now filled with simple technical diagrams, all neatly labelled in the curved shorthand that both he and his brothers were wont to work in.

"I've covered most of the engine and refining stuff, and I'm about a quarter of the way through rifling. Are you sure this is a good idea?"

This time Ed looked up.

"We've gone over this, Al. We're strangers in a world which is just recovering from a century of war, and where another war might be on the verge of starting. We might have our alchemy, but we can't take on the world. Since there's no obvious way back home, we might as well ensure that we can use our resources as much as possible."

"Ah yes. The mighty industrial will of Amestris brining civilisation to the barbarian hordes. I thought you hated that kind of propaganda."

Edward sighed, putting down the book and the scroll. The red light gave his face a strangely demonic cast.

"Al... come on. I just want to get home. But to get home, we have to stay alive. I don't want to destroy these people. Just- just help them along. If we help them, they'll help us."

Al sighed, and looked his brother straight in the eye.

"Ed, tell me we won't let this get out of hand. You've read the history books. You know what happens when an invading power comes in with technology and tries to change things."

His brother stared back, and nodded ruefully.

"You're right. We can't let the Amestrian Man's Burden get the better of us. Thanks Al."

He gave him a playful punch on the shoulder.

"Way to be my moral compass. Now I'll just get this page finished, and we can go to bed, okay?"

Al nodded, turning back to the page.

"Agreed. I never want to have to look at machine tools ever again. God, I'm going to be dreaming in Metric tonight."

The cover of Irmbard Brunel's _Encyclopedia of Industry, Volume 32: Firearms and the Manufacture Thereof_ snapped shut, and Al heaved the book off the bed, placing it on top of the pile of Volumes 1 through 40, inclusive. Thankfully, some clever soul had recovered all the tomes that had been telealchemically ported into this new Earth, and Ed had been overjoyed when he'd discovered that they were all texts on general engineering, mechanics and the like. Al was almost entirely positive that he'd gotten the idea to utilise the ideas contained in the books from a movie. If- When they got back to Amestris, he'd have to get the theatre to stop giving free season passes. Admittedly, he had fixed their roof and redecorated the interior for free, but _still_. Risembool was now the only town in Amestris with a movie theatre in the Gothic style, gargoyles and all.

* * *

Zuolin heaved himself from the wreckage, dragging one of the badly injured gunners. The tank had held, miraculously, but it was a dead loss. The rockets- they had sounded like rockets- had destroyed the tracks, the turrets, everything. He'd managed to Earthbend the granite plating and the engine into a crude shelter for most of the crew, but the storm of shrapnel and fire had got through. He winced as he deposited the unconscious gunner on the sand, the burns and lacerations across his back stinging in the gritty desert wind. The air was filled with sand and smoke, although the constant desert wind was rapidly clearing the air. And, he noted, rapidly clearing away the tracks of the tanks which had attacked them. The angular designs looked a _little_ Fire Nation, but the War was over. And now this.

The exhausted crew slumped down in the shadow of the tank, some of the less injured helping the badly wounded ones to drink from the canteens they'd managed to recover from the inside. Zuolin wasn't worried: he knew that the dust cloud from the rocket barrage would be visible from the Si Wong Test Area's headquarters: they'd have Sandbender rescue teams on the ground within minutes. He was worried about the tanks.

"_Hou Tu_, what have we gotten ourselves into?"

* * *

Bumi settled back into the throne, feeling the stone mould itself to his aching back. With a relaxed sigh, he began to bend the rock, effectively turning the throne into a massage chair. His advisors did a good job of not looking surprised or weirded out. The messenger, on the other hand did not. Bumi felt the need to enlighten him.

"When you get to my age, young man, you learn to take every opportunity to relax that presents itself. Now go on."

The messenger glanced back at his scroll, then gulped. Bumi knew he tended to have that effect on people. But Bumi was interim Earth King, at least until they found Kuei. Or his remains, for that matter. Or evidence that he was no longer breathing. But the messenger was speaking.

"Losses were minimal, but they report that the H-Yis couldn't even scratch them. They pulled back, whereupon General Zuolin's group was hit with something similar to a rocket barrage."

"Something similar? So he ended up between a rocket and a hard place?"

One of his advisors snorted, and Bumi made a mental note to _accidentally_ drop some fire flakes into his stew later. The messenger gave him a bemused expression.

"I suppose so, sir. They suffered heavy casualties, the tanks were disabled, and they were recovered by a Sandbender team about twenty minutes later."

"Only twenty minutes? Only _twenty_ miserable minutes?"

"Y-yessir."

"Very good. Tell Si Wong that their Sandbenders are to be commended for their efficiency. And have the H-Yis repaired and modified per the results of the field trials. That will be all, thank you."

The messenger was in a state Bumi liked to think of as "so confused it's hilarious to watch". Nonetheless, he obeyed proper formalities, bowing and scraping as he left. Bumi rose, shuffling his way out of the throne room, up the closest stairwell and onto the roof of the palace. There was a covered area here: a small Pai Sho room, one that he'd carved out of the stone of the palace roof. The Pai Sho board in the gazebo was unusual: for one, it was several dozen times larger than a standard board, and for another, it had tiles strewn across it in a way that would make any enthusiast of the game wince. A Pai Sho master, on the other hand, would look at it and realize that the tiles were suspiciously similar to an abstract depiction of the deployment patterns of every single major armed group on the planet. Bumi seated himself on a thin reed mat, his bare feet flat on the stone floor, and shifted a few of the tiles with his Earthbending. Then he stopped, and considered the pattern. He watched, and he waited. And grinned.

"Veeery interesting. Somebody's starting something."

* * *

General Si strolled along the Plaza, a cloth shopping bag dangling from one shoulder. There were nods, greetings and salutes from passers-by, but he'd made these trips often enough that people no longer stared. Everyone here knew who he was, anyways. He had built the place, hadn't he? As he always did, he cast a glance up to the 'sky', seeing a dark shape move past. Interesting. He'd have to ask the Oceanographers about it later. But now he had reached his destination. The paleograph shop was the only place in the City to buy sound recordings, and it had prospered as paleographs became commonplace. The manager, Kong Zhe, gave him a cheerful wave.

"'Afternoon, Gen'ral!"

"Kong Zhe. Pleasure to see you as always. What's new?"

"Well, we've got a new copy of Jieshi's _Solitary Orchid_ that we got from the orchestra, and then there's a new recording of Boli's _Music in Twenty-five Parts._ That's spread across thirty paleos, of course."

He indicated a rack stuffed to overflowing with paper cylinders marked 'Boli'. Shi sighed.

"I think I'll pass on the classics. Boli's good for the first five minutes, but then you just realize it's like the same three bars being played over and over again. Surprise me, Kong Zhe."

The manager shrugged, and then grinned as an idea occurred to him.

"There is something, but I know you're not a popular music fan, so..."

"Please, Kong Zhe. Indulge me."

"Well, they're this Western Earth Kingdom group called The Jeachong. Really popular with the young people, apparently. I've heard all their concerts topside have been sold out: they're coming on tour in the Fire Nation in the next few months. I'm going to go see them if I can get some surface time."

Shi grinned, picking up one of the paleographs Kong Zhe had indicated. On it was the image of four young Earth Kingdom men in uniform formal suits, with bizarre haircuts.

"_I Wish to Hold You by the Hand_? _This Bender_? The titles don't exactly roll off the tongue. But you do sound like you're a fan. They're good?"

Kong Zhe grinned awkwardly as one of the passing clerks rolled her eyes and elbowed him in the ribs. She grinned sarcastically as she spoke.

"They're good if you're a teenaged girl, General."

Kong Zhe reddened.

"Hey, now that's uncalled for! Teenaged girls aren't the only people who listen to The Jeachong! I happen to find their lute style quite catchy."

The clerk huffed and walked off, chuckling. Shi gave a bow that was a tad more formal than necessary, handing the manager exact change, plus a hefty tip.

"I'll be all ears. It's about time I had a change of style."

* * *

Half an hour later, as he relaxed in his quarters, he had to admit that the lutist was very catchy, whoever he was.

-~0X0~-

I'd like to begin this Authour's Note with an apology about the previous chapter: It contained far too much Baron de Pencier, and not nearly enough A:TLA and FMA. It's a problem I have. I tend to overthink things to the tiniest detail, such that I have an extremely accurate mental image of the exact workings of, say, a steam-powered tank using 1850s era technology, or how a paleograph is recorded, or other pointless details that are only really interesting to me. In the future, I'll try to stay more on topic, yes?

On an unrelated note, this is my first time trying to write anything approaching 'drama'. I'm normally an over-the-top pulpy ridiculousness kind of author, so the Aang/Katara scene was a- well, let's call it a change of pace. Is it all right? Please, tell me if it wasn't.

As for why this chapter is early: Travelling happened. Later in the month, when I'd normally be writing, I anticipate being horrendously jet-lagged, so an end-of-march update ain't gonna happen. In the meantime, have a happy March Break!

Review and question and point out plot holes and all that! And thanks to all you fine folks who reviewed!

And **I'd still like to work with a beta!**

And this Author's Note has gone on for far too long! Buh-bye!


	6. VI- Explosive Revelations

Al yawned as he pushed the cargo bay door open, stepping over the thick airtight sill and into the cavernous, dimly-lit room. It was one of the many small bays scattered across the hull of the _Wind Chariot_, its walls veined with thick, bolted bulkheads and skeins of ductwork.

"Good morning, Brother! Katara said you might be down here."

Ed nodded distractedly, his attention focussed on the alchemical array he was chalking onto the checkerplate flooring of the bay. He looked dishevelled, his hair still mussed from sleep. Al cast a glance over his work; the array was a simple one, designed for metallic transmutation. At its center lay a single bolt, whose colouring matched the dull metal of the airship's walls.

"Hi, Al. Just in time. I'm going to see if I can use alchemy on sky iron. Plus, any chance to use my alchemy again..."

Al came closer, hunkering down beside his brother.

"We still don't know how, why or if alchemy affects Bending, Ed. You might want to take this slowly..."

Ed gave him a disappointed glance.

"C'mon, Al. The only way we can learn exactly what that affect is is if we experiment, right? Plus, this metal... it's incredible! Here. Feel it."

He handed Al the bolt. He tried to heft it in his hands, but was surprised to discover that there was no heft to speak of. The bolt was cool, slightly rough, and definitely metallic, but...

"It's as light as wood, almost! Incredible."

Ed grinned.

"I know, right? I measured the density; it's _even less _than that of sodium! It floats in water! But it's hard enough to scratch carbon steel!"

Al put the bolt down, reverently.

"Amazing."

Ed was on a roll.

"It gets better! I've figured something out about this airship: it shouldn't be able to fly! All the lift is generated by hot air, but in a vessel this big..."

"It should be too heavy to fly, but it isn't, because of the sky iron!"

"Think about what Amestrian scientists could do with this metal! It would revolutionize... revolutionize everything! I mean this airship is basically what Von Junker wanted to do with aerostats!"

Al was very nearly hopping up and down with excitiement, caught in the thrill of _science_.

"Well, Brother, what are you waiting for! Let's do some alchemy!"

Gently moving the bolt to the center of the array, Ed rubbed his hands together, taking a few deep breaths.

"Okay. I'm gonna start with simple Comprehension. If we get that working..."

"Then onwards to Deconstruction and Reconstruction! Go!"

Ed placed his hands flat against the array, and concentrated. There was a crackle of static electricity and a dim blue glow as energy began to arc off the bolt.

"Al! Get my notebook! We've gotta write this down!"

Al scrabbled around for a pencil, scribbling rapidly as Ed rattled off a long list of figures; exact density, tensile strength, hardness, atomic composition, and many, many more. The feat would have been impossible for anyone not exposed to the Truth; it normally took many alchemists using a huge array of arrays to produce the kinds of results Ed was generating, but for one whose mind contained a complete knowledge of alchemy, it was child's play.

"Got it all, Brother! But are you all right?"

Ed nodded, speaking through clenched teeth. He was obviously having to exert a considerable amount of effort to keep the alchemical flow steady.

"I'm okay! I'm just having to make most of this up as I go along! Refining the transmutation comes later!"

The light grew brighter, and the air was filled with the harsh tang of ozone as the oxygen around them ionized. For a brief instant, the bolt began to bend and alter, but then there was a low _thump_, and what sounded worryingly like human screaming. The entire airship canted violently, throwing Al and Ed away from the circle. The transmutation reaction crackled into nothingness, leaving a badly twisted bolt behind. The airship slowly righted itself, but if the vibrating floor and the whooping air claxon was any indication, something had gone seriously wrong. A tinny voice came over the speaking tube.

"Alert stations! Hull breach on Deck Three! Second Lieutenant Azok to sickbay, immediately!"

Ed had to shout over the noise of the siren and the increased rumble of the engines.

"Aren't we on Deck Three?"

Al nodded, and they stumbled towards the door, feeling the airship buck and shimmy beneath them. They came out of the bay, only to be pushed aside by three uniformed crew members. They were awkwardly carrying a fourth man, his uniform burnt and twisted by some intense heat. He was mercifully silent, but his worryingly still form radiated the smell of burning human flesh. Al stifled a gag. There was a sharp _crack_, and the airship canted again, but further this time.

"That was close!"

Ed turned to the sound of yelling.

"Come on! I think it's coming from the engine room!"

They worked their way forwards, drawn along by an increasingly powerful breeze. Turning the hatch into the engine room, they were assaulted by a buffeting gust of icy-cold wind. The hull of the airship had been punched clean through, the jagged hole edged with twisted skeins of still-glowing metal. Several of the engineering crew were trying to get a thick canvas patch across the hole, but in vain. Where the cloth touched the metal, it burned, letting off thick clouds of smoke which were whipped away by the ferocious howling wind.

"Ed! We've got to close that hole!"

Fighting his way against the powerful wind, Al pushed forwards, stumbling over the cables and pipe work that covered the floor. The hull-sealing crew noticed them, waving them back with desperate shouts. Ed shoved the nearest one of them aside, then clapped his hands together and pressed them to the wall.

"Al! I need some help here!"

Al gave one last stumble forwards, feeling his heart pounding in his ears. The wind seemed to have stopped, but then he realized that it had merely been drowned out by the adrenaline coursing through him. He channelled the ambient energy with a quick clap of his hands, and then set to work on the sky iron hull plating. Ed was right; it was difficult. Not entirely dissimilar to transmuting metal, but close enough that he couldn't do anything instinctually. He felt the Truth begin to rise up in the back of his mind, information coursing through his brain faster than his conscious mind could process. His hair stood on end, but, blessedly, the smell of ionized air was absent, lost in the stench of the burnt metal. He felt the heat singe the palms of his hands, but persisted. The metal underneath his fingers became fluid, and then, ever so slowly, began to flow inwards, sealing the gap. With one final gasp of effort, the breach creaked shut, leaving Al and Ed gasping in the sudden silence.

* * *

"_Oh dearest, say to me/ you'll let me be with you/ and dearest, say to me/ You'll let me hold you by the hand..."_

Si had been trying to get the song out his head all day. Fortunately, the words were cut off by the gurgling scream of sheer mental agony that emanated from within the subconscious dredging device. The techs and various other personnel scattered around the dredging bay ignored the sound completely, used to the unfortunate side effects of the dredge. Waving to the chief psychogator, Si stepped closer to the hatch, a wave of fetid, fear-scented air waving over him as it popped open. The man strapped inside the device was slightly elderly, his skin blanched and drawn with fear. His eyes were slightly glassy, a side-effect of the hallucinogens being pumped through him, and he struggled constantly against the thick metal belts holding him in place. Si paused for a brief moment, swaying back on his heels as a complicated assembly of lenses retracted into the ceiling of the device.

"Mister... Ming, was it? Are you ready to talk? Really, I don't want to drag this out any longer than it has to. I abhor torture."

The old man shuddered, his waxy face hardening somewhat. When he spoke it was with some effort, fighting against the muscle relaxants flowing through his veins.

"The... Lotus... blooms..."

Si sighed, running a hand across his scalp.

"Mr. Ming, you're not helping. You've been hardened admirably, but giving up now will neither dishonour nor shame you or your organisation. It's in your best interests to talk. You will be well treated."

Ming spat at him, muttering a curse. His anger seemed to give him strength.

"The Lotus blooms."

Wiping the thin spittle from the breast of his uniform, Si gave another signal to the psychogator. With a whir of clockwork, the device swung shut, and a series of smallish pumps began to work across the hull.

"Miss... Lingche, was it?"

She gave a quick nod, the blank mask across her face hiding her features entirely. Her voice was low and muffled.

"He's a tough nut, sir, but we'll crack him."

"Please endeavour to do just that, miss. With expedience. There are others in need of your ministrations."

She nodded again, then turned back to her control panel. The hush of the minor psychogators and technicians scattered across the dredging bay was drowned out by the whirring of gears from the machine, and then another tortured scream. Si stepped out into the hallway, sealing the thick, soundproof door behind him. He gave another sigh, one that was considerably less self-controlled than before.

"Well, that just about ruined my afternoon."

Down the hall, a door hissed open, revealing a short, stout man, escorted by two motherly-looking medical orderlies. Though he was wobbling on shaky legs, his face was nonetheless shining with a beaming glow of joy and relief. He gave a weak nod to Si as he tottered past.

"G-general."

Si paused, taking a brief instant to remember his name.

"Qiang, was it? I assume you're all cleared."

The man nodded, some semblance of colour returning to his wide face.

"M-my mind is clean, apparently. Does t-that happen to everyone who joins the-"

"Joins us? I'm afraid so, yes. Even to me, once every month. I know it's not exactly pleasant, but it's vital."

He bowed. Qiang returned the gesture, struggling to keep upright on obviously shaky legs. Si had to credit him for his composure.

"Welcome to the Ember Group, Mr. Qiang. If there's anything I can do to facilitate your transition...?"

"Yessir. My family? My wife and son?"

"I believe they were taken in for screening at the center in Si Wong. I haven't heard anything out of the ordinary, so they're probably fine. You'll see them when the next personnel transfer comes through, in a month or two."

* * *

When he returned to his office, Si found his aide waiting for him.

"Quanli? What news?"

As Si settled into his chair, he glanced at the clipboard Quanli had handed him.

"Sir, one of the Fleet Arctic submarines has sighted the Fire Lord's airship. They've linked up with an Air Fleet Arctic battlecruiser airship."

"And they want me to authorise an attack on the Fire Lord? What's this about unusual energy surges?"

"Precisely, sir. And the Attuned benders on both the airship and the warship reported some weird chi distortions; something throwing off their bending."

"Interesting. Do we know where those two mysterious gold-haired Earthbenders are?"

It took a second for Quanli to shift thought tracks. Si knew he tended to do that to people.

"Um, no, sir. We're fairly sure they're not in the Fire Lord's palace."

"Assume they're on the airship. Tell the Fleet vessels to pursue, but not to engage the Fire Lord until he reaches the Northern Water Tribe. If possible, they are to capture these two unknowns with minimal force. Nonetheless, their lives are secondary to the death of the Fire Lord."

"And the Avatar? Intelligence from the palace is that he's on board."

"Standard procedure for dealing with young Master Aang, Quanli. The captains of the, ah yes, _Dao Rei Bel_ and _Child of Thunder_ know what to do."

* * *

The hallway outside the medical bay was cramped; it wasn't designed to accommodate seven people. Nonetheless, Al, Ed, Aang, Sokka, Katara, Zuko, and the captain of the airship all did their best to squish. The Captain was a large man, with a bristling walrus-like moustache. His dark complexion and deep, smoldering eyes only served to make him more intimidating. When he spoke, his voice was oddly soft and lilting.

"I must apologise for this incident, Fire Lord. I will endeavour to determine what happened to the best of my abilities."

He turned towards the Amestrians, bowing as much as the cramped hallway and his massive bulk would allow.

"My thanks to you. Had you not sealed that hull breach, we probably would have had to seal off the entire secondary engine bay."

Katara gave Ed a friendly pat on the shoulder. Unfortunately, the action entailed pushing Sokka back even further into the wall.

"Katara!"

"Thanks, you two. Your alchemy really saved the day. But Captain-"

She paused.

"I'm sorry, I never asked your name..."

The Captain nodded.

"It's Commander. Commander Brahmos, miss."

"Thank you. Commander, do you know how this happened?"

He sighed.

"Well, it's quite peculiar. Apparently Engineer Zongche was bending one of the secondary furnaces, when, or so the other engineers report, he began screaming. They saw his (heat-proof, mind you) garments catch fire, then something smoky burst from his body and punched the hole in the hull. You know about the rest."

Zuko cursed, softly.

"Did any of the engineers report anything odd when it happened? Like hallucinations, light-headedness?"

Sokka made a dismissive noise.

"Hallucinations? C'mon, Zuko. The guy just lost control of his Bending. You know it can happen."

But Brahmos was nodding.

"Come to think of it, yes, they did. It was just in passing, but one of the others said that everything went... well, the word she used was 'sharp'. Make of it what you will."

Sokka was nonplussed.

"Zuko, where are you going with this? I mean a man almost died here, and you're asking them about their weird Bending magic?"

Zuko cut him off.

"Work with me, Sokka. Ed, Al, were you doing any alchemy before the explosion?"

Ed turned to Al. There was a cautioning look in his eyes. Al knew it too. They might be on thin ice here. He wasn't sure how, or why, but it was thin ice nonetheless.

"Al..."

"Yes. Yes we were."

Zuko's face hardened.

"Every time you do alchemy, something goes wrong with somebody else's Bending."

Brahmos bristled.

"You did this? To _my_ ship? Young man, explain yourself, or I will be forced to have you thrown in the brig."

Ed bristled in kind.

"Hey, Moustachio, watch what you're saying! We just did a little alchemy! It's your engineer's fault that this mess happened!"

"Child, you will pay for your insolence! I will not hesitate to use violence if need be, despite your small size!"

"My WHAT?"

The hatch to the sickbay opened, and everyone paused. Ever so slowly, Brahmos let Ed's feet touch the floor, releasing the front of his shirt. Ed, meanwhile, stopped trying to kick him in the groin. A young man stepped out, his willowy frame and scruffy neck-beard a harsh contrast to Brahmos. The front of his red uniform was badly stained.

"Second Lieutenant Azok! How's Zongche?"

Azok rubbed his eyes, his sleeves smearing the dots of charred skin scattered across his forehead.

"Well enough, Commander. He's got shallow surface burns across most of his upper body and torso. They'll scar, and hurt like a right _bitch_, but he'll live."

* * *

They had moved to the observation bubble. Brahmos, casting one last stare at Ed and Al, had returned to the bridge. Sokka, being Sokka, took the floor.

"So. Alchemy does something to Bending, if it's used in close proximity. We know the symptoms, Zuko?"

"Yeah. There's a sort of clarity, of sharpness in the air..."

Aang nodded.

"Like seeing through a lens."

Sokka, clearly ready to embark on one of his infamous 'logical lectures', began to get to his feet.

"Okay. So. Lenses. And then your bending goes all overpowered and kablooie!"

Katara shot him a piercing glare. He swallowed audibly.

"Sokka, this is serious! Don't talk about- about 'kablooie' when a man almost died!"

Sokka sighed, sitting back down.

"Sorry, Katara. But you've got to admit, this is exciting! It's something entirely new! I mean one normal Firebender suddenly had enough power to punch through the side of an airship without even trying!"

He forestalled Katara with a broad gesture that sent the back of his hand smacking into Ed's left shin. The room was more spacious than the hallway, but it wasn't exactly roomy. Sokka winced.

"Sorry, Ed. Ow. Katara, I know it was an accident. But think of what could happen if you could control it! What if we mixed alchemy with the Avatar State! Huh? Am I right?"

Ed raised a hand.

"Question! What exactly is this Avatar State? You haven't really explained it to us."

Sokka groaned.

"Oh. Riiight. Aang? You're the Avatar. You tell them."

A brief explanation later, Ed looked torn.

"What's the matter, Brother?"

"It's incredible. But horrifying. I mean, Aang, you're _Gott_. You can make and unmake continents! You can control everything! And if we added the power of Alchemy to the mix..."

"Ed, you can't be serious."

There was an unfamiliar expression on Ed's face, one that Al wasn't sure he had ever seen before. His brother looked determined, but at the same time... afraid?

"I wish I was. I really do. But we can't. Aang, Sokka, Zuko, Katara...We told you about Father, back in Amestris. For the briefest of moments, he became God. Fifty million people died. I cannot- I will not allow this to happen. What Alchemy has done to our homeland won't be spread to other worlds!"

There was a long, tense silence. Aang broke it, hesitantly.

"Ed and Al, when I looked inside your heads, there was something... you both called it Truth. It was- well, not _evil, _but still bad. And you associated it with Alchemy. What is it?"

Ed sighed.

"Attempting to perform Alchemy on a human being, that is- a creature with a soul breaks the balance that is so fundamental to Alchemy. You need to trade your life to alter the life of another. Al gave his body to bring our mother back to life. It didn't work. I gave an arm and a leg to bring Al back, trapped inside a suit of armour. If you can survive 'trading' like this, you remember what you saw. On, on the other side."

"You mean like the Spirit World? It's dangerous, but not likely to kill you..."

"Aang, this isn't a world. It's just knowledge. Well, that's not what it's like at all, but- but I don't have the words. And there's this being- it calls itself Truth. It's the guardian of that knowledge. It is Alchemy, pure and simple. To pass through the gate and live is to see and learn and understand everything there is to know about Alchemy."

"So if I'd tried to see what the Truth in your minds was..."

Al broke in.

"I'm no... well, the word in Amestrian is _psychologe_, but in Common you might call it a doctor of the mind... Anyways, it seems that our minds consciously suppress almost all that information. Otherwise we'd go insane from the knowledge overload. We've both technically died before, when we saw Truth. So our minds know to cope, or something. If you were to try to see the Truth... _Gott_, I have no idea. It would be something terrible."

Ed nodded.

"But there's something else that's been bugging me, Al. About Truth."

"I think I know what you're talking about, Brother... When we came over."

Katara leaned forwards in her seat, brushing against Aang, who blushed noticeably.

"Wait. You said that you were involved in an alchemical accident and woke up here! What aren't you telling us?"

"We... we saw Truth. Only briefly. And it- well, it looked frightened. Surprised even. It said that we weren't supposed to be there. Something about a- a 'mulitverse', whatever that means."

"Not just that, Brother. It said that if- if we die, we take everything with us."

* * *

Zuolin knew he was in no state to be driving into battle again. He winced as the shallow scars in his back and sides protested. When he'd received the Earth Ki- King Bumi's request, he'd known the old man had finally snapped. Ordering technical trials and engineering tests in the face of an unprovoked attack by an unknown enemy? Madness. He should have seen it coming a long time ago. Fortunately, he was ready to do what needed to be done.

"Everyone's formed up, Driver. Get us moving."

The L-Yi light command tank surged forwards, and the fifteen others in the squadron did the same at his signal. The entire military reserve of the Si Wong Test Area was moving. Four squadrons of 16 L-Yis each, five hundred Sandbenders, a contingent of two hundred Earthenders, and almost a thousand foot soldiers and cavalry. It wasn't a large army, by any means, but Zuolin knew that it was better armed than any force in the Earth Kingdom. The foot soldiers were followed by heavy weapon teams carrying repeating ballistae, and even the Sandbending skiffs were armed with spring-loaded grenade catapults. The L-Yi swayed beneath him, its thin treads making considerably less noise than the H-Yi had. Only three days ago, he'd been pulling himself out of the wreckage of the H-Yis, and now here he was, in charge of any armoured force that would make mincemeat of any Fire Nation armour. The light L-Yi tanks couldn't compare to the sheer bulk of the H-Yis, but their ballistae were more than powerful enough. That, and they were much, much faster.

* * *

Chiha gave a low whistle.

"They're really pulling out all the stops, aren't they sergeant?"

Oi nodded, his eye still to the telescope.

"The briefing said they wanted to test some of the prototypes, but this... It looks like they're not even bothering with the rocket artillery and the big Howling Dragons."

Their Roaring Dragon, not by any means a small vehicle, was overshadowed by the massive bulk of three Ember Group Emperor Dragon-class superheavy tanks. The gigantic multiturreted vehicles plowed through sand dunes, their wide tracks throwing up huge clouds of sand. Around them were the hexagonal shapes of the Tundra Dragon tank hunter vehicles, accompanied by a few of the Spined Dragon advanced tank hunters.

"Teke, take a look at the projectors on the Emperors and tank hunters. What d'you think those are?"

The weapons didn't come close to looking like steam projectors. They were almost delicate, thin tubes of metal connected to thick conical bases. There was a creak of hinges from the front of the tank, and Teke popped his head back inside, wiping sandy dust from his face.

"I have no idea, sarge. But I'm guessing they're a hell of a lot more deadly than they look. It's hard to get a clear view from ground level; those tracks kick up a lot of dust."

Kego turned away from the boiler, screwing the lid of the furnace shut.

"If I recall the design briefings, they're built with double-wide tracks. Good for swamps and rough terrain, but terrible for dust."

Screwing his eyes against the sunlight, Oi swept the cupola ring around to face the lead Emperor. Something caught his eye on the way, however; the horizon line was a pale brown, instead of the usual bright blue.

"Be ready to button up completely, guys. Looks like there might be a sandstorm incoming."

Chiha swore softly.

"A sandstorm? Now? I thought the Owl predicted clear weather?"

Oi shrugged, his eye still on the lens.

"Well, they're not gonna call this off for a spot of bad weather."

A blister on the top of the second turret of the lead heavy tank lit up, flickering quickly. Oi took a brief second to parse the order, and then dropped back into his seat.

"Woah! Guys, we just got the attack order. They must have damn good telescopes or something on those Emperors; I've got no idea who we're gunning for. They just said hold up, then advance on their cue."

The lighter, faster Roaring dragons of the battle group slowed collectively, creeping across the Emperor, Tundra and Spined Dragons moved into a rough wedge formation, grinding to a complete halt as their guns angled towards a distant point on the horizon. The thicker steam projectors on the Tundra vehicles were canted up to lob shells at high angles, but the pointed weapons on the larger vehicles stayed quite level.

"The big ones just got the order to open fire. That's our cue. Remember, we're going after stragglers. Let the big guns do all the-"

_EEEEEEEKRAKOOOM!_

The force of the volley of explosions shook the tank bodily, sending waves of sand rolling down the dunes. The line of heavy tanks had exploded into a huge cloud of pale smoke and fire, dozens of needle-thin contrails streaking off into the distance.

"What in the hell-? Oh, Agni, those are some damned powerful projectors! Full speed ahead!"

Teke rammed the throttle forwards, and the Roaring Dragon sped to join the fray. As they topped the next sand dune, Oi realized that the Emperors didn't have better telescopes- they were just taller, able to see over the low ridge that had blocked the Army of the Si Wong from view. It hadn't been a sandstorm after all; merely the dust clouds kicked up by at least fifty armoured vehicles and several high-sided sand skiffs. The entire army was in disarray.

"Go! Load and fire when ready!"

* * *

Zuolin wasn't even aware of the shot that killed him. A pointed rod of metal, no longer than a man's forearm, punched lengthwise through the tank ahead of him, reducing it in an instant to a cloud of superheated metal fragments. They, in turn, tore through the hull of his command tank, flash-vaporising everything inside. In an instant, he was burned to ash. Dozens of other rounds, fired by the massive projectors of the Emperor and Spined Dragons, began to tear methodically through the Army of the Si Wong. In an instant, hundreds were dead, and most of the armoured force was crippled. There was a long pause after the screaming devastation of the first volley. The survivors scattered. They were still running when the Roaring Dragons hit them.

* * *

Oi was in his element.

"Left fifteen! Load blasting! Fire! Teke! Hard a-right! Sandbending team!"

The tank didn't react fast enough. The sand underneath its treads rose up like water, pitching the vehicle sideways.

"Gyros!"

Oi kicked a foot lever. Deep within the bowels of the tank, several disk turbines screamed into motion as the piping around them dumped all of the engine's steam pressure into spinning a series of heavy leaden disks. The tank canted, almost overbalancing, the gyros screaming, their protesting bearings filling the hull of the vehicle with acrid smoke. Then, impossibly, it began to tilt back to level, the centripetal acceleration of the gyros counteracting the massive force of the sand. The treads hit the sand, almost gently, and the gyros slowly screamed their way to a halt.

"We're still alive! Get the pressure back up! Keep moving!"

* * *

By the end of that day, the Si Wong Test range was in a shambles. Its huge sandstone fortifications, rivalling the best in the fire Nation, were split and cracked, unable to resist the immense high-velocity shots of the Emperors. The Ember Group attack force melted back into the sands of the desert. For the briefest instant, the desert sands vibrated and shook as if possessed. Small sandslides rolled down dunes. Then all was still.

-~0X0~-

Oh, Zuolin. You lived a hero and died a virg- _I mean_ cloud of metallic ash.

I'm not entirely sure that I'm satisfied with this chapter. I've been editing it for a few weeks now, and it just doesn't feel right. I'm not sure what it is. Pacing, maybe? Or something. If you see it, tell me. I just can't figure it out.

In response to the review by **SeijuroRen **: I can understand your point about the Truth, and I've tried to address it here. I had always interpreted that knowledge of alchemy as being a subconscious thing more than anything else. It's not like you have an encyclopedia in your head, it's just that your brain can parse and deal with alchemy waaaaaaay better than a normal person.

Thanks to all you fine folks who reviewed and favourited and alerted! It means a lot! As always, feel free to comment, criticize, ask questions, and engage in quibbiling debates over technological and sociopolitical trivia!

Oh, and in parting- Chapter 7 might be a bit late. It is exam time, after all... We'll see. I'm making no guarantees.


	7. VII- Long Sharp Shock

In the weeks following the alchemical accident, the _Wind Chariot _continued northwards, an uneasy peace reigning over the crew. Brahmos reluctantly allowed Ed and Al access to the airship's tiny machine shop, on the condition that they were constantly supervised by either a crew member or one of what Sokka referred to as the Gang. Or Gaang. Al wasn't entirely sure which. But he did know that it was probably a pun, and a terrible one at that. Ed's tireless devotion to building Amestrian weaponry continued, but his requests to be allowed to alchemically synthesize gunpowder had been flatly denied. Nonetheless, the growing numbers of rifled metal tubes and small spring-loaded gadgets filling the machine shop were a testament to the mechanical skill neither of them knew they possessed. Al wasn't entirely sure where Ed was getting the scrap metal; his Brother had assured him that he was merely skimming off the spare parts that filled one of the forward cargo bays. Nonetheless, Al was prepared for Brahmos to come storming in at any moment, claiming Ed had stolen an engine or one of the boilers.

In between marathon sessions at the forge, building what Ed insisted on calling the "Elric Mark 1 Rifle", Al had taken the time to get to know some of the human and non-human crew better. The men and women of the Fire Nation Sky Navy were professionals to the man, but still weren't entirely used to two strange brothers who spoke an unintelligible language and had impossible hair. And, in the case of one of them, a mechanical leg. Nonetheless, the tension between the Amestrians and the sky crew had relaxed, somewhat. Al still couldn't bring himself to look Zongche in the eye. The man was up and about, on half-shifts, his face covered in a perforated metal mask which made him look more like a poorly animated marionette than a human being. Wherever he went, the cloying scent of burn ointment followed. Second Lieutenant Azok was quite pleased, claiming with his usual tact that his fellow crewman was "higher on painkillers than an Omashu junkie on Kingdom Day, but doing okay."

* * *

"Al? Hey, Al, are you asleep?"

Al blinked and sat up slowly. The young Avatar was looking back at him over Appa's broad back, his robes billowing in the light wind that always seemed to swirl around the Sky Bison in flight. They were keeping pace with the _Wind Chariot_, slowly drawing closer to left-side cargo bay doors.

"What? Oh, no. Just daydreaming."

He stifled a yawn.

"Another long night at the forge?"

Al nodded, swaying instinctively as Appa began to sidle closer to the cargo door, his three right legs reaching out to grasp the sill of the hatch. Aang had been taking Appa out to fly every few days, keeping the somewhat claustrophobic sky bison exercised. Ed had flat-out refused to ride on the animal, but Al had been tagging along, coming to appreciate that the gigantic animal was far more gentle, and far more intelligent, than he appeared to be. Plus, he was _flying_!

"Oh yes. Brother doesn't want to admit it, but he's gotten really into this _kannone _business. He may not be a member of the military any more, but he's still got a... an _appreciation_ for weapons."

Aang nodded solemnly as Appa swung himself into the bay, lowing softly as he curled up on the straw-covered bay floor.

"You're still okay with this? With him building _kannonen _to give to us?"

Al slipped out of Appa's palanquin, giving the bison a gentle scratch on the ribs. He glanced up at Aang and shrugged, stifling another yawn.

"I can see where he's coming from. I guess we've both still got the idea in our heads that someone, somewhere, wants us dead. My brain is saying it's a bad idea, but my gut is telling me that it's better to be safe than sorry. And I trust my gut."

The room resounded with a low-pitched metallic clanking as Al helped Aang wind the cargo bay door shut.

"What worries me, Aang... naaah, this is gonna sound stupid."

"What?"

"Ed's been hiding something. Making something he doesn't want me to see. He modified a bunch of the lathes, and some of the prefabricated parts I'd been working on went missing..."

Aang's reply was cut off by another metal noise, one which Al recognized as someone on the bridge picking up the general-address speaking tube. Brahmos' voice came through muffled, but clear enough.

"Your attention please. We have sighted the Northern Water Tribe. I estimate we will arrive in two hours at our present speed."

* * *

About a kilometer behind the airship, something stirred in the arctic seas. A thin tube of metal and glass pushed clear of the surface, cutting through waves with enough speed to leave a frothing wake behind it. The tube, its glass head seeking this way and that, rose higher out of the water, and was joined by the corrugated dome of an optigraph station, and then by a streamlined vertical fin, dotted with hatches and protruberances. The water beneath the fin boiled as a great metal tube pulled free from the depths, three double-barreled projector turrets shedding salt water as they broke the surf. The entire submersible reached the surface, the Ember Group insignia sparkling in the sunlight. For a few brief instants, the Ember Group Arctic Fleet Battle Submersible _Dao Rei Bel_ was silent, drifting on the current. Then, with a hiss of steam and a huge plume of black smoke, its twin propellers churned to life. The two forward turrets angled up to point at the distant airship. There was another pause. And then the steam projectors fired.

As the shells streaked away, the optigraph lit up. Its brief flicker was answered by another distant flash of light. One that was well _above _the horizon line.

* * *

Al was on the verge of closing the hatch when the _Wind Chariot _rocked, knocking him off his feet. There was a muffled _crack_, and a sibilant sound that he realized was something pattering off the hull. Appa lowed, panicking. Aang, who had barely stumbled from the concussion, ran to calm the beast. There was another _crack_, much louder this time, and the airship shook again. Stifling a curse, Aang went to the hatch of the cargo bay, cranking open a porthole and sticking his head out. Within seconds, he had pulled back in, his face grim.

"There's a ship following us! Al, we're-"

The speaking tube came alive again.

"Alert stations! Alert stations! Set Condition One throughout the ship! Scramble all fireteams! We are under attack!"

The pitch of the engines grew as the airship sped up, the force of the acceleration making Al stumble again. Aang was already at the door controls, trying to crank the cargo bay open to the air.

"Al! Come on!"

Al regained his balance, and rushed to help Aang crank the door open. The small space was filled with the scream of wind and a harsh cloud of cordite smoke from the shells.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going out on Appa! I'm taking the fight to them!"

"Not without us!"

Katara, Sokka and Zuko barged into the room, accompanied by Ed, who was lugging something angular wrapped in oil cloth. Katara had two thick water skins tied around her waist, Sokka had a Fire Navy cutlass tucked into his belt, as well as two thick metal fans, and Zuko carried a pair of twin broadswords. They'd obviously had to scramble to get ready- Sokka's boots were untied, and Al was fairly sure that Zuko had his shirt on backwards. Aang glanced over them, and then nodded.

"Get on!"

They clambered up onto Appa's back, but Ed hesitated.

"Al! I'm staying here, and I need your help! I can't load this on my own!"

"Load-?"

Al had to yell over the wind rushing past the bay. Sokka had to scream to make himself heard.

"Ed! Al! Are you coming? 'Cause-"

_Crack!_

Al had never heard a shell burst in mid air before, but he recognized it for what it was. The concussion knocked Appa off his precarious perch, sending the Sky Bison into a steep dive. The cargo bay was suddenly full of bouncing shards of metal, and Al yelped as the shrapnel his him side on, stinging his face and arm. Ed punched the emergency hatch release, and, with a puff of compressed steam, the bay door closed, leaving the brothers in comparative silence.

"Brother, what-?"

Ed hefted the bulky package back on to his shoulder.

"Come on! They've rolled out fire steps! All the Benders in the crew are out there. Follow me!"

They ran through the twisting corridors of the airship, up onto the deck above the rear cargo bay. Several of the crew were gathered around an open hatch, passing out packages of solid leather webbing.

"Crewman! We need to get out onto the fire step! We've got weapons!"

Ed indicated the bulky package. The crewman- Private Makann, if Al recalled correctly, nodded, then passed them each a bundle of webbing.

"Safety straps, Elrics! Tie them on, then hook the cable onto the rails outside! And stay clear of the backblast- we've got a rocket launcher set up!"

After a few struggling seconds of tying belts and clasping buckles, Al stepped out onto the platform, hooking his belt cable to the indicated rail. Even in the wind shadow of the airship, the noise was still ear-splitting; above them, huge columns of exhaust billowed from the rear smoke vents, and the roar of the steam engines was occasionally drowned out by the crack of shells. The view was incredible. A slate-gray sea, dotted with icebergs, under a clear blue sky. There was a glint on the horizon, and Al made out the low shape of the warship following them. As he watched, its guns flashed gray, and another shell exploded nearby. The fire step was narrow and railing-less, with barely enough room for the rickety rocket launcher frame several of the crew had already assembled there. They were manhandling red, conical rockets out of a hatch in the side of the hull, and locking them in to the frame. There was a blast of hot air as a shell hit somewhere farther forward on the airship, and then something huge and metallic came flying by with an unearthly screech and tore one of the loaders free from his perch. He didn't scream as he fell. Al gawped at what had barely missed him; it was a _propeller_. An entire chunk of one of the engines had blown free. Ed tugged his arm, and screamed in his ear.

"Al! Go grab some of those rockets!"

Nodding, Al shuffled over to the loading station, grabbing a bundle from the pannier that extended from the narrow hatch in the side of the ship. One of the loaders motioned to stop him, but he gestured back in Ed's direction. Al saw the loader's eyes widen through her goggles. Then she shrugged as best she could through several layers of thick leather armour. Al, struggling to hold the heavy rockets in one arm as his other clamped tight around the hull rails, turned back to his brother, only to see the oilcloth fall away from the device Ed was holding.

"Is that an anti-tank gun! We never planned on making one of those!"

"Never mind that! Help me load this!"

Ed unfolded a skeletal framework from the top of the meter-long tubular weapon, holding it steady as he indicated Al to slot three of the rockets in to it. Al did so, and Ed folded the framework into the body of the cannon. Shifting it forwards onto his shoulders, he flipped up a rough sight from the front of its chunky barrel.

"Al!"

"What?"

"I want you to turn the red knob on the back of the cannon ninety degrees clockwise! And pray!"

"Pray?"

"'Cause if I built this wrong, we're both dead!"

Gulping, Al glanced across the back of the gain, noticing the tank covered in thick restraining bolts. There was a red handle, with a paper marked 'Never Turn This' in both Amestrian and Common attached. He turned it. With a _clunk_, the front of the cannon's barrel telescoped forwards, a hand hold and assembly of gauges dropping down as it extended to its full length of a meter and a half. Ed dropped down on one knee, bringing Al with him.

"Al! Grab the handles on the back, and hold on tight! If this works, it'll kick like a mule!"

"But what _is _it!"

"Compressed air cannon! With a little doohickey that ignites the rocket fuses. Firing!"

"Wa-!"

Ed pulled the trigger. With a _foomph_, the air cannon launched the missile. The recoil slammed both brothers painfully back into the hull, but they both managed to keep their footholds. The rocket, its red paint catching the light, dropped away. Then, after a few seconds, its fuse caught, and it streaked towards the distant warship. Where it promptly missed. Ed swore.

"Too far to the left!"

"Brother, you don't even know how to use a gun!"

"Well now's an excellent time to start, I think!"

"GET DOWN!"

Beside them, the rocket launcher fired, sending a cascade of unguided missiles towards the sea below. Then the volley paused. There was an ominous hissing. One of the loaders swore incoherently.

"IT'S A JAM! GET-"

The blast obliterated the firestep, sending Ed, Al, and the cannon they were both clinging to hurtling into space. Both their cables snapped taught, leaving them hanging well below the hull of the ship. Another shell exploded, uncomfortably close.

"AL, WHAT IN GOD'S NAME JUST HAPPENED?"

"I- I think the rocket launcher just exploded!"

"REALLY! WELL THAT'S JUST FUCKIN' WONDERFUL, ISN'T IT?"

Al punched his brother in the face. Ed blinked.

"Sorry. Okay. So, we're stuck here and..."

He looked down, then back up, going pale.

"And wow okay that is a very long way down and that is not friendly-looking water."

There was a jolt, and they both slipped downwards a few feet. Al glanced up at what remained of the fire step. The rail they were hooked on to had broken free from the ruins of the platform, and was rapidly detatching from the badly damaged hull. The twisted hatch popped open, and a crewman stumbled over the edge and into space, his arms pinwheeling as he realized that there was no more platform to step on to. The rail bent further and further, snapping rivets as it came. But there was an area of the gasbag that looked cracked- yes, the metal plate was almost flapping in the wind! There was space underneath it!

"Brother! We're going to come free from the hull!"

An idea came to Al, brought on by the inspiration that often springs from sheer panic.

"Get ready to pull the trigger! And point that gun straight down!"

"What? But there's nothing in the barrel!"

"I know! Just pull the trigger when I say so! Hold on!"

Reaching on to the back of the cannon, Al pulled the red level another quarter-turn clockwise. All the dials went red.

"Al! Put that valve back! It's gonna blow!"

"I know!"

Al let go of the cannon, then clapped his hands together. In the instant before he brought them against the tank on the weapon, he yelled.

"Fire!"

Ed pulled the trigger, releasing the extremely pressurised gas inside the gun. Al brought his hands down, converting the compressed air inside the barrel into hydrogen. Extremely flammable hydrogen. The device designed to set off the fuses on the rockets sent a tiny spark drifting lazily down the barrel. The gas caught. It followed the path of least resistance; out the end of the barrel. Both Ed and Al screamed like small children as the fist of an angry God punched them out of the sky and back towards the hull of the airship. Gritting his teeth, Al forced the juddering weapon sideways, and the great pillar of flame roiling out the end of the gun smashed them through the broken hull plate. Their safety cables caught on the jagged edges of the metal, and they were whipped to a halt. The cannon slammed against a rib of the gasbag, jamming in the space between two beams. The gas tank cracked, the force it still contained tearing it free from the cannon, whereupon it punched back out the hull and exploded outside. There was a moment of comparative stillness.

Al staggered to his feet, wincing from what he thought might be a few cracked ribs. He gingerly unclipped the safety belt from his waist, noting with a sense of detached horror that the cable was almost completely torn through. Then his attention turned to Ed, who was moaning as he, too, got to his feet. There was a crunch, and Ed gasped sharply as the outer shell of his automail leg fell to the floor. He looked up at Al.

"We need to get another air tank. And some more rockets."

"We WHAT!"

* * *

As Aang's stomach tried to climb into his throat, he suddenly realized that Momo hadn't come with them on the airship. Then Appa did another barrel roll, narrowly avoiding the cloud of shrapnel that pierced the sky behind them. The fire from the submarine had abated with the volley of rockets from the _Wind Charriot_, but now that the airship had gone silent they had turned back to Appa and his riders. There was a brief pause between each shot, long enough for everyone in Appa's saddle to regain their hand and footholds before the explosions started again. It was in one of these pauses that Sokka scrambled forwards, clinging buglike to the front edge of the saddle.

"Aang! We need to go lower! We're sitting turtle-ducks up here! We can hide in the ice!"

Aang nodded. The _Wind Charriot_ had accelerated once the shooting started, and they were now making a beeline for a thicket of huge ice chunks, their looming bulk perfect cover for Appa.

"Okay! Everyone, hold on!"

"What d'you think we've been doing for the past three minutes? Having a tea paaaaaa-!"

Appa dropped out of the air like a ton of bricks, lowing as another volley of metal burst above them. The people in the submarine were improving their aim. Quickly. They levelled out low enough to skim the water, the rush of air at their passing strong enough to kick up a thin wake. The distant airship, seeing their course change, began to angle towards the icebeg reef.

"I'm going to throw up some cover! Keep Appa steady!"

"Gotcha, Katara! You heard her, buddy! Yip yip!"

Somehow, the bison managed to accelerate even more, but still stay stable enough to let Katara get to her feet. She struck a stance, and then, with one smooth motion, she turned the sea to vapour. In an instant, a massive cloud of fog filled the air, shrouding them from the submarine. Once again, it fell silent. Its damaged engines chugging, the _Wind Charriot _dropped rapidly, settling in the air a few dozen feet above them, with the bridge pod roughly in line with Appa. A hatch popped open and Brahmos stuck his head and shoulders out, clutching a bullhorn.

"Fire Lord! We'll cover you in the 'bergs! If we can lose this submarine, we'll head straight for the North Pole!"

Zuko gave a thumbs up, and cupped his hands over his mouth.

"We'll take them out in the ice field! Aang and Katara can crush them in the water! We just need to keep them from aiming at us! Run interference!"

The commander nodded and shut the hatch. Aang glanced around once more. They were nearing the edge of the ice field, the thick bank of fog Katara had bent still concealing them from the submarine. Then Katara gave a panicked shout.

"Oh, Spirits! Look at the fog!"

It had been blown away; in the center if the suddenly clear area was the submarine.

"Katara, what just happened?"

"Someone bent the fog! They've got Waterbenders on board."

Sokka scoffed.

"No way! No Water Tribe bender would ever try to kill the Avatar!"

Zuko shrugged, one hand still resting on the hilt of his broadswords.

"Yeah, but they might try to kill the leader of the nation that imprisoned their people and supposedly destroyed their capital city."

"Oh. Yeah, guess I hadn't thought of that."

There was a bright flash of light from the submarine, but no boom of sound or metal this time. Sokka waved a fist.

"What're you trying to do, you jerks? Sparkle us to death?"

Zuko stopped him before he could make an even ruder gesture. The light was flickering on and off, in a regular pattern.

"No, it's not just sparkling. It's light signalling. The Fire Navy uses it to communicate long distances at night. But I don't think that's Fire Navy code. They use red and blue lamps, not white."

"So if they're signalling us, but also trying to kill us- oh spirits they've got backup, don't they."

_UUUUUULLLLLLLAAAAAAAAA_

The air rang with the ear-splitting sound of an air horn. The two-note shriek reverberated around the icebergs, but was droned out by the roar of propellers. Many, _many _propellers. A great, whale-shaped bulk rose out of the icebergs, eight gigantic steam engines keeping it aloft. Its gunmetal gray hull was covered in turrets and rocket tubes, and on its blunt bow were painted three words in stark white. The _Child of Thunder _had arrived.

* * *

Brahmos' jaw dropped. For the briefest instant, the bustle of the bridge was halted as a second '_UUULAAA' _reverberated across the ice field. He swore. Loudly.

"It's a trap!"

The horizon exploded in a line of fire as the _Child of Thunder_ thundered. The air was filled with a screaming cloud of rockets, which rocked the _Wind Chariot_ in a massive blast wave. Brahmos was thrown out of his seat, landing on broken glass as the delicate bridge instrumentation shattered. He stumbled to his feet, gritting his teeth against the pain.

"Damage report!"

The bridge was filled with the whistle of leaking pipes, the whooping of alarm klaxons and a worrying low vibration, as if the airship was slowly shaking itself to pieces.

"We've lost engines 2 and 5! Engine 4 is badly damaged! Hull breaches all across the forward quarter! The observation blister is compromised!"

Brahmos picked his way to the forward view slit, slipping a pair of binoculars out of his pocket then throwing them to the ground in disgust when he realized they were mangled.

"Damn. We can't handle firepower of that magnitude! Take us as low as we can go! Is Engine 7 still out?"

"Yessir. The rear propeller was blown off. Engineering says they can get it working at half-capacity in five minutes. "

"Belay the repair order. Recall the teams from engines 2 , 4, 5, and 7, and get them to work on damage control and engines 1, 3, 6 and 8. Jettison the damaged engines and destroy them, then route all remaining steam to the surviving engines. Make it so!"

"Yessir."

Another one weird silence had fallen; it was obvious that the gigantic airship couldn't fire its rockets particularly quickly.

"Helm, maintain maximum emergency speed. We neeed to lose altitude. Take us as low to the water as we can."

"Sir, this ship isn't designed for high-speed low-altitude manoeuvre! It would tear the airframe apart!"

Brahmos put a heavy hand on the pilot's shoulder, feeling the man tense.

"You know what also tears the airframe apart, pilot?"

"S-sir?"

Ignoring the trickle of blood from his temple that was working its way into his eyes, Brahmos leaned closer to the pilot.

"ROCKETS, YOU IDIOT. Get us closer to the water. Now!"

The pilot didn't bother to respond, but instead cranked the pitch controls as far down as they could go. As the _Wind Chariot _began to tilt forwards, another volley of rockets broke around it, punching its hull full of holes. Brahmos swore again, louder this time.

"We need to go lower! Prepare for an emergency vent!"

"Sir, we're getting dangerously close to the red line as it is."

"I'm aware of that, but we need water if I'm going to make this work."

"Sir?"

"Never mind. Prepare for an emergency air vent. On my mark! Pilot, get ready to pull us up."

"Ready, sir!"

"DIVE!"

Brahmos maintained his furious calm as the _Wind Chariot _plummeted out of the sky. Reaching into an inner pocket, he pulled out a small metallic device; a tiny metal cage, its bars intricately inscribed with characters too small to read. There was a small piece of parchment curled up in the cage. With a quick movement of his hand, Brahmos swept his thumb across a small spike mounted on one corner of the artefact, and flicked the blood from the resulting cut onto the parchment. It seemed to burn, curling into ash in a way that was not entirely natural.

* * *

The second barrage of rockets shrieked above Appa, aimed at the _Wind Chariot_. The airship was raked by a storm of metal, and it dropped out of the sky, barely pulling out of the dive as it skimmed the surface of the water. Huge holes had been torn in its hull, and several of its engines appeared to have been torn off in the volley. Aang realized he was holding his breath as he watched its shredded lower fin carve through the surface of the sea; mercifully, it gained a littler altitude. The bridge came alongside, and a battered Brahmos looked out at them.

"Katara. Get us a stable ice platform. As large as you can make it."

She seemed to be on the verge of saying something, but then nodded. With a wave and a huff of breath, the sea froze solid, adding another iceberg to the field they were now steadily drifting through. The _Wind Chariot_ hit the ice with a crunch, the base of its hull crumpling and distorting as the gasbag lost any sense of cohesion. The ice platform rocked under the strain, but held, the mercifully light metals in the ship's frame keeping it light, even when not in flight. The enemy airship was roughly overhead, its fire blocked by the looming bulk of the bergs. Aang had the horrible impression that it was holding its breath.

"Good. This looks stable enough."

Brahmos stumbled out the bridge hatch, something small and brass-coloured held in his bloodstained hands. Taking a deep breath, he kindled a fire around it, holding it aloft, and spoke.

"Brahmos. The Lotus Blooms. I need a gateway. Airship-sized or larger. I have the outworlders."

There was a pause. He nodded slowly.

"Would _Tulpa_ cover be pos- no? Ah."

Another nod.

"Brahmos, who-?"

Sokka was interrupted.

"The Ember Group, I believe. Oh, sir. Yes. Unfamiliar airship variant. Excellent."

* * *

"Ma'am, the Attuned are picking up Gate activity."

"Projector teams, load hive shells. Fire when ready."

* * *

The Avatars reacted before Aang's mind could catch up with them. His thoughts were suddenly submerged in the constant overlapping whispers of his past reincarnations, comparing tactics, methods, and Bending styles at impossibly high speeds. In the fraction of a second that it took for them to reach consensus, he had already swept the water up and around their little island, his tattoos shining with chi. The projectiles hit the shell of newly-formed ice with a mighty _crack_, exploding into dozens upon dozens of tiny, smaller explosives. A miniature hurricane forced them back as Aang rose into the air, the spent force of the explosion swirling around him. The shockwave washed over the cirrpled airship, and a worryingly large chunk of the gasbag tore off and fell into the sea, throwing up a thick column of spary. Several of the more spiritually-oriented Avatars noticed unusual currents in the Spirit World superimposed over their location, but dismissed them as a minor consideration. He rose towards the airship, calling up whirling blades of ultra-high pressure air. The whirlwind swirled closer around him, thin blades of water intermingling with air at high enough pressures to cut stone. Several small black dots detached themselves from the ship, dropping towards him.

* * *

"Avatar's here! Scramble!"

Goba's feet left the deck as his wingpack snapped outwards, the knife-sharp fins catching the breeze. Curling his legs and arms back, he dropped, the rush of the wind around his helmet deafening him. Without a word, his squad drifted into a rough assault formation, their crossbows held ready. At his signal, they fired downwards towards the rising figure of the Avatar, the solid slug bolts plummeting away. At another signal, the squad moved farther apart. Goba tilted his shoulders forwards, bringing his legs closer together as he tilted into a near-vertical dive. As expected, the Avatar deflected the bolts, the power emanating from his small frame obvious even through several layers of thick armour. Then, when the moment came, Goba took a deep breath, and swung his arms in a slow circle.

* * *

The Avatars brushed the steel bolts aside with a gust of air, noting the figures in gray encircling it, suspended by thin metal wings strapped to their backs. The nearest of them swung towards him, his pinwheeling arms summoning up a gust of wind.

A gust of wind. He was-

Aang's mind crashed back into control of his body as the sheer impossibility of it hit him. No, no, it couldn't be. A gust of wind? But they were all- no. No.

Then a thin ray of sun caught the surface of the man's transparent visor, and he saw the face. The pale skin. The high forehead. The angular blue lines of a- a tattoo.

The gust caught him like a thunderbolt, and he fell out of the air, stunned.

Airbenders. _Airbenders._

-~0X0~-

Yep. Azulon wasn't nearly as good at genocide as he though he was.

As you might be able to tell, this chapter was written in response to Dr. Indigo's claim that the story wasn't fast-paced enough. I agree with him, and I'm glad we were able to have a reasonable and sensible discussion. Constructive criticism is best criticism. This was written in a bunch of small chunks over the course of the last month, so a lot of it has undergone waaay more editing than is normal. When I keep unpublished stuff lurking around on my hard drive, it starts to burn a hole in my brain as I realize all of the impossible fiddly details I could have published. So yeah.

Thank you to all you fine folks who reviewed the last chapters, as well as the half-dozen or so of you who didn't comment but alerted. I'm sorry I didn't keep track of your names, but know that it means a lot to me that you're following the story.

Happy Friday the Thirteenth, by the way. Aaaand I just realized by the time I typed that that it was Saturday already. I need to start going to bed earlier.


	8. VIII- The Lotus Blooms

"The Avatar is disabled!"

"Load thermobarics! FIRE EVERYTHING!"

* * *

Reality folded with a soft wail, and the air filled with lines of blinding light. The ice platform shook, and only Brahmos stood his ground as something forced its way into existence. A gigantic latticework of energy unfolded, beams locking into place as traceries of matter unfolded around them. The sound was tremendous, the sea subliming into vapour as it was shot through with unfathomable power. Then, with a crunch, the gate solidified. It was a ceremonial paifang, its exposed wooden surface covered with impossibly intricate carvings. And in its center... an impossibility. A whirling matrix of points and corners, a shape so multidimensional that to even glance at it was incredibly painful. As the shells and rockets from the _Child of Thunder_ rained down, the gate swept forwards, folded itself around the airship like a crumpling piece of paper, and vanished with a thunderclap, taking the entire ship and the small ice sheet with it. A brief instant later, the thermobaric shells detonated, filling the space where the paifang had been with heat and pressure.

* * *

"Captain! We lost them!"

"Get signals to Si Wong and the Lagoon! Tell them to get on full aler-"

There was a screech of agony from the Attuned bay, a thickly insulated sphere buried in the center of the bridge. The Captain scrambled to her feet, and was forcing the thick hatch open before she was truly conscious of what she was doing. To her surprise, it opened from the inside, at the exact moment that the screaming stopped. A flushed, sweating face protruded from the dimness of the bay, the Attuned bender's face taut with pain and mental strain. He took several juddering breaths, and then spoke.

"They- they broke something. The chi. It was all w-wrong."

He collapsed, senseless, at the Captain's feet.

* * *

A wave of blank whiteness swept down the hull of the airship towards Ed and Al, consuming all in its path. Instinctively, Al clapped his hands together, trying to throw up a sphere of metal to protect them from the conflagration. Then the wave front hit them and everything went strange. The light curled in on itself, blackening and writhing. It was as if it had hit a vertical wall, billowing upwards and outwards but never going through or around the two brothers. The air filled with static discharge, but Al wasn't conscious of controlling any energy. He tried to speak, but there was no sound. And then the world folded away, superimposing itself on the surface of an impossibly twisted and kinked torus of three-dimensional space. The bent ring slammed towards them, bathing everything in un-light, and then with a great _crash_ the wreck of the _Wind Chariot _hit the ground. Al felt himself falling, and then everything went beige and blessedly silent.

* * *

Brahmos strode out of the wreckage, and into the peculiar yellow-green radiance he had seen so many times before. Picking his way over the still-cooling chunks of metal that had been the airship, he addressed a hulking figure with gigantic fangs and glowing red-brown eyes concealed behind a slitted metal visor.

"You're in charge? What in the hell just happened?"

It nodded, bringing a pumpkin-sized hand with clawed fingernails up into a crisp salute. Its voice was a surprisingly gentle hiss.

"I am, sir. We ran into some sort of interference in the transfer. We lost the two- 'alchemists', was it? They didn't make it across. The strongest rebound effect I've ever seen."

"Did they transit back?"

It nodded again.

"They did. The process ended coherently, though we're not entirely sure where."

Behind them, Sokka shrieked a curse, his voice cracking.

"Would someone explain to me WHAT THE HELL JUST HAPPENED?"

Brahmos growled under his breath, and the hulking monstrosity in the visor gave a shrug and a sympathetic nod. It sighed.

"Newcomers. _Prajna_, they're all the same."

Brahmos stalked back into the wreckage, finding Sokka, Katara, Zuko, and an apparently unconscious Aang clustered in the ruins of the bridge. Zuko spoke first, blinking against the strange radiance that filled the air.

"Commander. What did you just do?"

Brahmos gave a curt bow.

"Fire Lord Zuko, I would like to welcome you and your companions to the Spirit World."

* * *

Iroh sat at the circular table, Bumi beside him on his right.

"So, my friends, we're agreed?"

The figure directly opposite him nodded, the pale light of the glowing moss in the ceiling making the thick crystal lenses that covered its eyes opaque. It sat with steepled fingers, its claws unfurled.

"Indeed, General Iroh. As of now, we are moving the Order of the White Lotus onto a full combat setting. If we can catch the Ember Group unawares..."

Bumi rose to his feet, his face unusually serious.

"With your permission, Zhujue, I would like to return to the mortal realm. The Omashu Project must continue."

The Zhujue nodded, his glowing eyes briefly visible through his goggles.

"Of course. We will arrange a paifang immediately."

Iroh got to his feet as well.

"I'm going to see my nephew. Zhujue, sirs, if you'll excuse me."

The doors to the war room slammed shut behind him, and he smiled sadly. In a way, he'd missed this. A war was always... he hesitated to say nice. Not nice. Not after what had happened to Lu Ten. A war was... refreshing. It changed things. Gave one purpose. A goal to work towards.

* * *

"Now!"

With a cough of explosives, the thick wooden gate blew inwards, fragmenting into a storm of smoke and wood chips. Hao leapt into the space, jinking past the crouched demolitions man, who had already raised his bow to cover him. The space beyond was stark and well-lit; a short, stone-walled corridor, with two doors leading off to the left and one to the right. Hao paused for a moment, then waved the group forwards.

"Clear!"

Sergeant Quatuq came in next, the magnesium lamp on his crossbow filling the corridor with harsh light. Cursing softly, he shuttered the lamp, and gestured Hao and the first fire team towards the closest door on the left. They assembled around the hatch, and at another wave from Hao, moved in. He kicked the flimsy door down, his crossbow up and ready, his finger tight on the trigger. They came into a compact kitchen, with a small woodstove and a compact table. And a fireball.

Hao ducked around it as the old man standing in the center of the room threw himself to one side, letting loose another sphere of flame that hissed past Hao's head. Hao fired his crossbow, and the explosive bolt snapped out, exploding with a soft thud on the rock wall behind the Firebender. His squadmates opened up as well, their bolts deflected by the sheet of fire the old man threw up as he lunged forwards, one bony hand going for Hao's weapon. He dropped, cocking the handle, then fired another bolt into the man's midsection. There was another dull explosion, and he staggered. The shot had grazed his robes, redirecting most of its shaped charge past him. He sent out another wave of fire, catching Hao and the man next to him full-on. The third man in the squad gave a sharp yell, leaping forwards and hitting the Firebender in the center of the forehad with the blunt end of his weapon's firing groove. He staggered back, dazed, and the soldier fired a second shot. It hit the man in the center of the forehead, and there was a brief moment of complete stillness before the shaped charge exploded, splattering what was left of his head all over the back wall of the room.

He got to his feet, wincing from the pain of the flash-burns that covered his face. Quatuq came in, his weapon up, quickly glancing over the carnage.

"Casualties?"

The squad sounded off, none of them reporting anything more than minor burns.

"Good. And you got the Firebender, too. Excellent. We've cleared the rest of the space; if there is a Tulpa cradle here, it's- wait a minute."

Hao followed his gaze, taking in the low table built into one wall of the room. The sergeant swore again.

"That table's set for two. There's another Bender here."

There was a shout from outside.

"Sir! You're going to want to see this."

The soldier was standing just inside the room at the far end of the hall. The space was in complete darkness, the light from the bright lamps in the hall only going a short ways into the dusty blackness. Wordlessly, the soldier removed the lamp from her crossbow, opened its aperture fully wide, and plunked it down on the smooth stone floor. She clicked the sparker, and the lamp hissed to life.

"Oh spirits."

The gargantuan space that revealed itself to them was filled with statues. Hundreds, maybe thousands of statues.

"Sergeant, is this-?"

Qualuq nodded slowly.

"No, this isn't just a Tulpa cradle. It's a Hub. A very large Hub."

* * *

At least one layer of spacetime over, a small tree rustled in a nonexistent wind, its thin bunched bristles contorting and folding. They were peculiarly coloured, almost hexagonal in cross-section; each side was a different colour. As the tree rustled, the needles twisted and folded, revealing a vivid, regular pattern of colour variances. The hulking figure ministering to the tree and several others like it noticed the shift, and signalled another hulking figure.

"Zhongwei, we've got an incoming signal from Hub Three. Emergency priority. I'm routing to the main screen now."

In the middle of the control center that was also a bonsai garden stood a stark, minimalist paifang, its wooden surface free of indentation or decoration. The creature tending the tree used a single claw to draw a line through the smooth gravel surrounding the plant. A point in the center of the gate flickered into brilliance, then displayed a distorted close-up of a young human male's panicked face.

"Tulpa Control! This is Hub Three Secondary requesting an immediate security activation! An Ember Group fireteam just killed the Primary, and they've broken into the Hub!"

The Zhongwei seated himself on a low pedestal overlooking another gravel rock garden, the stones arranged in whorls and loops. With a thin bamboo cane, he traced a series of jagged arcs through a specific quadrant of the surface. Several nearby bonsai pines quivered and twisted, showing new patterns.

"We've got a team on it. Whenever you're ready-"

Suddenly, a figure stood at the Zhongwei's side. It handed him a bark scroll. The Zhongwei glanced over it, glowing red eyes widening behind his thick visor.

"_Prajna_ help us all."

When he spoke to the figure on the screen, he pitched his voice up so all in the garden could hear.

"I have just received a message directly from the council of the Zhujue. As of this moment we are returned to a total war footing against the Ember Group. Prepare for immediate maximum Tulpa mobilisation from Hub Three and all the associated Cradles."

A low murmur of astonishment rippled across the control center as the Zhongwei took his bamboo cane and drew a vicious slashing cut across the rock garden. At that instant, all of the bonsai trees flickered red, then back to a dull yellow-green. The murmur turned from one of shock to one of frenetic activity.

"Hub Three, stand ready for a full-scale activation. The Ember Group won't know what hit them. The Lotus blooms."

The man in the image nodded, utter shock plastered across his features.

"The Lotus blooms."

* * *

Hao gulped, pulling his crossbow closer to his chest and squinting against the harsh actinic light of the magnesium lamp. Nothing moved in the cavernous empty space before him. The Hub was filled with rank upon rank of statues, their forms all vaguely humanoid. The smallest were about as tall as two Komodo-Rhinos placed end-to end, while the largest, only barely visible in the gloom, would have given airships a run for their money. The ones nearest were vaguely birdlike, wooden skeletons with thick, many-jointed wings and blunt, four-eyed heads. Though they stood in silent repose, there was something eerily _alive _about them. Theirs was the stillness of a predatory animal, a creature about to pounce.

"Damn, sergeant. I mean wow. That is a _lot_ of Tulpas right there."

The NCO nodded.

"We're going to need benders in SP and AP harnesses, maybe a few tanks, at least a full demolitions division. I'd like to take a few minutes to see if the second bender's in any state to fight, and then we pull out."

Hao edged closer to the low barrier surrounding the small platform they stood on, and looked down into the darkness. Each statue was also part of a massive pillar rising from the depths; each dormant Tulpa was supported by the one below it. How far down the pillars went, he couldn't tell.

"You're not worrying about one waking up?"

"Don't be silly. The most threatening thing here is the bender, wherever he is. The Lotus haven't had the capacity to awaken Tulpa for nigh-on fifty years."

Hao felt a faint breeze rising from below. Blinking against the dust that had been stirred up, he squinted downwards. There was a light in the darkness. A pulsing blue-whiteness. And it was growing larger- no, _closer_. Something was rising towards the platform.

* * *

"The defensive standby unit has been awoken, Zhongwei. Commencing revival for the rest... _now_."

Hao backpedalled from the edge.

"There's something coming up!"

"What-?"

With a whoosh of air, a great wooden creature rose up before them. It was both avian and human at the same time; its arms were flattened and elongated, their wide fingers more like control flaps than anything else. The body was flexible, ribbed with flexible leather and sinew joints. Its skin was alive with thin lines of faint blue light, all leading to the faintly vibrating reflective metal sphere embedded in its chest. And its face... A smooth wooden mask, broken only by nearly invisible seams and four glowing blue eyes, completely alien in their malign _aliveness_. Hao gasped.

"It's- it's-"

The sergeant finished the sentence for him, bringing his crossbow up and firing an explosive bolt, which tore itself to pieces against the hovering construct/creature's hull.

"Tulpa."

The Tulpa's head split open like a flower, separating into two vertical jaws and two horizontal ones, the eyes swinging back and away on flexible linkages. The inside of the creature's mouth was a dark tunnel, broken only by the thin fins and protuberances that sprouted from the insides of its four jaws. With a high-pitched whistling scream, two huge bellows in the creature's back folded outwards, and Hao felt his ears pop. He was rooted to the spot. Knowing what would happen next only made things worse. He had scoffed, once. _There's no way you can do that with air. It has to be an exaggeration_.

The whistling of the bellows grew to a fever pitch, then stopped. With a snap, the jaws and membranous bellows snapped shut, much faster than Hao's eyes could follow. In the next instant, all the air was sucked out of the space around him. Before his body could react to the shock of explosive decompression, the air collapsed inwards, creating a zone of incredible pressure and heat. The air grew incandescent as the space within the 'bubble' of high-pressure air became hotter than the surface of the sun for about a picosecond. When the air returned to normal, all that remained of Hao, the Sergeant, and the passage to the outside world was a collapsed wall of scree, and a sooty stain on what remained of the platform.

Surveying the scene for a brief instant, the Tulpa turned upwards with a flick of its wings, bellowed in another screaming breath, and blew the roof of the cavern off with a single withering schockwave of air. Sunlight flooded the space, only to be joined by a growing haze of blue-green as the other constructs in the Hub began to wake up.

* * *

It was only by chance that one of the projector operators on board the Ember Group reconnaissance airship _Farsight_ had his projector loaded and pressurized. Nobody had expected they'd need to use the blasting shells in the projectors to destroy the supposed Tulpa cradle; he'd insisted it was better to be prepared. Thus, when a pale grey-brown winged shape rose in front of his projector's turret, it was only a second's work for him to pull the trigger. The projector coughed, spitting out a cloud of steam and an explosive shell which exploded obliquely on the construct's curved flank. Behind the operator, the loader was sitting transfixed in her bucket seat, the remains of the bowl of broth she'd been enjoying spilling, unfelt, onto her lap.

"Sound the alarm! Load another shell!"

* * *

Inside the belly of the Tulpa, the bender whose call sign was Hub Three Secondary winced as the creature/machine around him protested, several of the control elements flashing yellow and red. Had the Tulpa been awake for longer, its natural web of recirculating air shields could have deflected the shot entirely, but as it was it was still warming up from what was effectively a cold start. The bender felt a surge of power shoot through him as the benders in the Spirit World activated more and more of the Tulpa fleet. Deep below him, in the bowels of Hub Three, things were stirring to life which had not seen the light of day for more than five decades. A voice sounded in his head.

"Angle left. We will dispose of the airship."

"Understood."

Grasping the smooth wooden hand controls, he banked the Tulpa farther down into the cavern, out of the line of fire of the airship's guns. He could feel rather than hear the whistle of its shipboard alarms, and the explosion of shells around the rim of the cave showed as faint splotches of lights on the screens that lined the piloting chamber. He felt the Tulpa shift beneath him as a massive updraft of warm air filled the cavern. Very warm air. The construct began to judder in the force of the rising air, and he dropped towards the cavern wall, latching the creature on to a protruding rock outcropping and watching as an immense Tulpa rose out of the cavern on crablike legs.

Hub Three Secondary's Tulpa was an Air unit- a gliding, fast-moving attack vehicle. The Tulpa passing him was a hybrid Earth/Fire, a massive heavy assault unit. Its body was an oblong egg-shape, tapering down to almost a dozen pillar-like insectoid legs. Its torso was surrounded by five spade-like hands, each roughly the size of the Air Tulpa, and ending in stubby fingers which Three Secondary knew could spit torrents of fire and magma. A roughly conical head sat on top of its body, four craterlike eyes glowing redly. The entire structure was awash in heat- the Air Tulpa could pick up the turbulence patterns it was generating in the open space above it, and they were tremendous.

* * *

The stone Tulpa leapt out of the Hub, its immense legs setting the grassy hillside alight as they touched down. A line of explosions stitched their way across its hull- the airship had got its bearings, and was now in full retreat, all its aft guns trained on the giant construct following it. The Tulpa lifted a huge chunk of rock free from the soil, flinging it at the receding ship an missing. It paused for a second, receiving new orders, and then raised its five arms, settling down into a rough approximation of a crouch. The air around it began to hiss and swirl, as a cloud of frost appeared about the _Farsight_. The logic of those White Lotus members who had designed this particular Tulpa technique was quite simple; if a Firebender could transfer heat into an object and make it warm, couldn't they also remove heat from it and make it cold? The Tulpa was doing just that; the hull of the airship buckled and collapsed as its engines went dead and its hot air cells imploded. The air clouded and condensed, a vapour of liquid oxygen plummeting out of the sky. When what was left of the _Farsight_ hit the gorund, it shattered like fine crystal. When the Tulpa was satisfied with its work, it released the stored heat in a wave of energy that turned the fine soil below it to glass and utterly annihilated what was left of the flammable plant cover around the rim of the Hub.

* * *

Yuralria glared across the table, her hands clenched in front of her. Across from her, Rei smirked, and placed a small object on the board in front of them.

"Wheel takes your Jungle. I think you've just lost, Yura."

Yuralria swore, then handed her the flagon of mead.

"I almost had you, too!"

Rei shrugged, still grinning smugly.

"Well, you know-"

Yuralria cut her off with a small wave of her hand, a gesture which caused the condensation on the jug to flick off and splash across Rei's face.

"I swear to Tui and La, if you keep going on about me 'improving my Pai Sho skills', I _will_ fill your bunk with pond weed again."

Rei laughed, ignoring the water as she downed the last of the jug.

"Awww, c'mon. Don't be such a grumpy drunk, Yura. Besides, you're improving! No, really!"

Yuralria harrumphed, wiping the sweat from her brow. Both women were Attuned benders, their chi systems surgically altered to be receptive to the flux of their respective elements. An Attuned earthbender could lift only small rocks, but they were impossible to sneak up on because they could detect the motion of the calcium in your bones and iron in your blood at five or six kilometre's distance. A side effect of becoming Attuned was a vastly boosted metabolism; their bodies bent constantly, putting a massive drain on the chakras in the body, and requiring diets that were extraordinarily high in sugars and carbohydrates. What this meant in practice was that Yuralria and Rei were both somewhat overheated, despite the fact that they were lighty dressed and sitting in a small metal observation bunker very high up a mountain in the northern Fire Nation.

Rei suddenly sat up in her seat. Yuralria cocked an eyebrow.

"Problem?"

The Earthbender frowned, her roughly cut bangs hanging down in front of her dark eyes.

"Could be. A tremor, I think. Probably from the Cradle-hunting team that went by earlier. Still, I shouldn't be feeling it this far away."

"D'you want to trance? Try and check it out? I'll back you up. There's no need to write a report..."

Rei nodded, pushing her chair aside and settling into a lotus position on the tatami floor of the cell.

"Okay. Call it a hundred-click sweep, fifteen minutes unless something weird's happening. "

Yuralria reached up to the device strapped to the back of her neck. It was a thin semi-circle of metal, studded with various dials and half a dozen sealed metal tanks, each about thumb-sized. She cranked several of the dials around. There was the click of clockwork, a slight pain in the side of her neck, and her vision blurred. The device was an injection collar, designed to help Attuned amplify their abilities. If one tried to extend their sensitivity range too far without properly diverting the chi flow in their bodies, they could cause serious nerve damage, and occasionally bend local elements unintentionally. She sat back in the lotus position, feeling her arms and legs go slightly numb. An Attuned bender without a collar and mental conditioning could 'see' for around ten kilometres, maybe slightly more. With the proper equipment, she could 'see' for more than two hundred. She hummed a mantra, and the cues implanted in her subconscious pushed her into the half-awake trancelike state that was perfect for an Attuned scan.

"Where to, Rei?"

"Two hundred degrees, range maybe twenty, twenty-five?"

Her mind blossomed with a rough topographical map of the area, filled with the silvery swirls of moisture, tracing the contours of the land. Small bright dots were people, and she knew if she looked closely enough she would be able to see the blood flowing through their veins. She passed over the nearby village, through a glowing cloud that was a rainstorm, and then-

"Oh, my. Rei, are you-?"

"Yes. Yes I am. Something large and earthen, moving. But that pattern-"

"I'm not seeing the earth, but the atmospheric disturbances are beyond bizarre. Looks like multiple large explosions... and some frost where none should be. A lot of dead plant life too."

"Oh man, there are more things moving... They are _big_."

"What the heck is this?"

"I'm gonna check the guide."

Yuralria heard Rei stand up, walk away, and move into the lower portion of the observation cell. There was a ruffling of pages, and then...

"_Hou Tu._ Yura, we've got a problem. Oh this is bad."

Her eyes shot open, and her hand flickered to the switch which would cut off the drug flow to her brain. She staggered to her feet, stumbled down the steep flight of stairs and into the miniaturised communications center that occupied the lower level. Rei stood at a table next to the pneumatic tube system, scanning worriedly through a thick book. It was the Guide, a directory of all the elemental patterns an Attuned bender of any element could normally experience while in a trance, from the feeling of a small rockslide to a fully realized Avatar at full power.

"What is it?"

"I- I think the pattern is Blue. Maybe tending towards Crimson."

Any haziness from the drugs vanished immediately. A Blue pattern meant a high-powered Tulpa activation. Crimson meant multiple Tulpa, of varying elements, and possibly even a full-powered Hub.

"You're sure?"

"Positive. I've never seen anything like it. Get on the CE, I'll fire up the pneumos."

There was no need for any more words. Yuralria removed a shelf of maps from a shelf, settling herself at the Coding Engine table. Plotting the rough location of the Blue pattern, she punched the numbers, as well as the location code for the Lagoon onto a card and fed it into the machine's input slot. Gears clicked and whirred, and then a small bell _tinged_ to let her know it was ready to encode a message. Grabbing another punch card, she fed it into the presswriter and typed out the abbreviated code that stood for 'Pattern Blue, High Probability Crimson'. The presswriterclicked and clacked, embossing the card and then feeding it into the Code Engine, which spat out one final punch card, a thin slip of paper filled with hundreds of pinprick-sized holes which could be read only by the big Coding Engines at the Lagoon. Behind her, and deeper down in the sublevel, there was a soft hooting noise, and a growing rush of air. Several dials on the pneumo board crept up into the green, clicking and clattering as high-pressure air rushed through the system. Rei came up the ladder from below, nodding.

"All set."

"Right."

Yuralria grabbed a message capsule, slotting the encoded card inside and dialling the lock on the outside to the Lagoon Central Switching Station's main address. Almost as an afterthought, she attached a small brass tag marked 'Urgent' to the lock. She pushed the capsule into the main tube receptacle, feeling it _click_ onto the guide rails, then pulled the 'send' lever and watched as the receptacle slid into the body of the pneumo system and disappeared into the maze of the pipes with a _foomph_ of compressed air. Rei had already climbed back up to the top level.

"It's sent? Good. Back to observing."

She followed her, casting one last glance at the Guide as she dialled her injectors back into trance mode. Pattern Blue. Something was afoot.

* * *

It took approximately fifteen minutes for the message capsule to reach the accelerator station several dozen kilometres outside the Fire Nation Capital. As it slid into the receiving tube in the station, the brass 'Urgent' tag caught a switch on the levers designed to register the pattern on the capsule's lock. The station's analytical engine registered the tag, instantly raising several alarms and clearing all down-tube traffic from the capsule. The engine shuttled the capsule into the main launch tube, circumventing several other capsules full of important, but by no means urgent information. The station's operators confirmed the message from the analytical engine and fed the main boilers to full power. Huge disk turbines spun to life, feeding more and more high-pressure air into the space around the capsule. Suddenly, there was an almighty _pop_ as the control valves opened, followed by a second _bang_ as the capsule accelerated past the speed of sound, and stayed there. It reached the main hub at Lagoon in less than three minutes. When the analytical engine there red the tag and decoded the message, all hell broke loose.

* * *

Si leaned forwards on the podium, turning his head ever so slightly towards the paleograph recorders. Taking a deep breath, he began to speak.

"People of the Ember Group, I have momentous news. As of approximately half an hour ago, we have resumed full hostilities against the Order of the White Lotus. Our attempts to suppress the current government of the Fire Nation and move into Phase Two of the Grand Plan have failed. Minimized force has failed. Direct action is necessary. We are currently at Conflict Readiness Level III, and we will be moving to ConReL II within the next twenty-four hours. Global surface leave is cancelled for all branches of the Group. We begin full military shifts from now on. Furthermore, I am reopening Operation Skyhook. We're going back to space.

Now. As per standard procedure for ConReL II, the vaults in the Si Wong base are to begin the revival process on all stored personnel. And I mean _all_."

A low murmur of concern washed around the crowded briefing hall. Si sighed.

"It pains me as much as it does you to have to revive the spectres of our past, but our survival justifies the means. I know that many of you disagree with the methods our predecessors used; they were brutal, and vile, and cruel. But they are necessary. We need Ember Overlord. The White Lotus have regained contact with the Spirit World. We have evidence of at least one full-scale Paifang transfer, as well as the activation of a fully functional Tulpa Hub. Furthermore, they have the Avatar and the Fire Lord."

Someone in the back of the room swore, making no effort to hide the fact. Si nodded.

"My thoughts exactly. Now, you have everything you need in the folders in front of you. Let's get mobilized, people."

* * *

Oi awoke to a soft knocking at his door, and a whispered voice.

"Sergeant. _Sergeant!_"

Oi rolled over, grumbling muzzily. The figure lying next to him pulled the covers higher over itself. Forcing one eye open, Oi glared at the luminescent display of the wall clock.

"'s four inna morning. Go 'way."

"Sergeant! It's urgent!"

He threw a balled-up pair of underwear at the door.

"It c'n wait. Go 'way."

The voice receded. He heard whispering. Wait. A female voice. Was that Sang-

There was a hissing noise, and he felt his ears pop as the door tore off its reinforced metal hinges. Light filled the room, forcing Oi to squint at the woman he knew was standing in the doorway. Sangmu's voice boomed through the enclosed space, its horrible cheer sending the man lying in bed next to Oi bolt upright.

"Gooooood morning, Tanker Sergeant Oi! Hands off cock and on with sock, oh invader of the buttocks of others!"

The other man gave an exasperated groan.

"Spirits damn it, Sangmu... now really isn't the time."

Oi's eyes had adjusted enough to let him see Sangmu's face. The woman had her usual 'I'm pissing Oi off' shit-eating grin on, but there was a serious cast to her eyes that Oi had seldom seen before.

"Vikram, it's all right. Sangmu. What's up."

She threw him a bundle of clean clothing.

"Message from the Lagoon. We're at war. Well, more war than usual. You've got ten minutes to pack an away kit and get to the kinetoscope room on level fifteen. Well, see you."

She turned as she left, her face perfectly innocent.

"And do put some pants on, would you?"

Three minutes later, Oi was in the elevator going up, strapping his belt on, Vikram's farewell kiss still cooling on his cheek. Time for war.

* * *

Al awoke with a sword in his face. A large, dirty beard with a shifty looking man attached to it was looking down at him, his manic grin showing far too many gold teeth.

"Good morning, stranger! Your money or your life, if you please?"

He glanced around. Hot summer sun beat down on a landscape of rolling hills and mangled airship components.

"Oh, balls. Here we go again."

-~0X0~-

Here's where our story really kicks into gear. War is coming. And it's going to be crazy. Trans-dimensionally crazy. Whacky and amazing and crazy. Whole lotta crazy. Can't stop ending sentences with the word 'crazy'. Oh, there we go.

I know there's a lot of unexplained stuff happening in this chapter, but don' worry- all will become clear in time. And by time, I mean two months. Which leads me to an important announcement: _HtE_ will be on hiatus for all of July and August. To make up for the gap, I've added a little extra to this update, as you can see.

Thanks for your reviews, everyone, and have a lovely summer! Tell everyone you know to read this story! Hah, just kidding! No, but seriously, do!

EDIT: a few continuity tweaks. Nothing major.


	9. Document: A Summation of the Armistice

This is the first of what I hope will be many Documents: they're not integral to the plot, but they'll give you some non-essential backstory, as well as a few hints. Enjoy!

-~0X0~-

DATE: [REDACTED], 101 A.C

DEST: Si Wong (Owl's Nest, Inner), [REDACTED] (Owl)

SNDR: Lagoon Central Political Monitoring Office, Captain (_Polit._) Dorje

Owl,

I know you'll probably end up with a final version of the Armistice treaty through your own (forgive the pun) foxy methods, but I figured a summation from the Political Office might be useful for your records. Officially, the final printed treaty will be delivered and signed sometime in the next week, but all the details have been finalized. This is technically the modified version of the précis of the Office's analysis, with a few of my comments attached. Enjoy.

The Three Nations are to be represented by the following:

Earth: Bumi of Omashu, regent of the Earth Kingdom, and temporary King of Ba Sing Se

Water: Waterbending Master Pakku of the Northern Water Tribe, under advisement from Hakoda of the Southern Water Tribe

Fire: Ex-General Iroh, uncle and Chief Advisor to Fire Lord Zuko

ADDENDUM: In the role of moderator and interested party, His Honour Avatar Aang of the Air Nomads will be present when available

This was a real coup for the Lotus. Even though their military power's basically gone, they've still got more political influence than you can shake a stick at. And there's not much we can do about the influence of the three they've chosen. Bumi's got a lot of clout among the Water Tribe for his work breaking the Siege of Glacier Rock back in the early years of the war, he's an old friend of the Avatar's, and he's one of the most respected figures in the Fire Nation military academies. You'd probably be able to confirm this better than I, but I heard that Fire Nation strategists used to call him the 'Savannah Badgerfox' for his strategic acumen. Anyways. Pakku's not very popular in Fire Nation circles- there are a few confirmed reports of violence against POWs, and we all know how the Fire Nation feels about captured soldiers. As for Iroh- well, he tried to stop Zhao from killing the Moon Spirit, and he liberated Ba Sing Se, so he's respectable from the Earth and Water's point of view. As for the Fire Nation- less so. A lot of loyalists still see him as a traitor, but he's got the Fire Lord's ear, and he's a good friend of the Avatar, so there's not much they can do. Moving on.

The conference will take place aboard the Privateer's Guild flagship _Freedom at a Premium_. Representatives from the Three Nations may provide an ambassadorial guard of no more than 30 soldiers, 10 of whom are permitted to be Benders.

It was originally planned to have the conference in the Fire Nation Capital (spirits, why didn't they pick a better name?), or one of the abandoned Air Temples, but I'm sure you can imagine the political damage that would cause. The Privateer's Guild may be pirates and mercenaries in all but name, but they're the closest there is to a neutral party in this war. As for the low security- well, the Privateers are ridiculously well-armed, and they're being paid a very, very large sum of money. That isn't a concern.

The terms of the Armistice are as follows:

1. The Fire Nation will withdraw all military and civilian forces in the Earth Kingdom beyond the Haenguk Line, and allow the Earth Kingdom and Water Tribes to take control of areas they abandon

2. The Fire Nation military presence in the Occupied Cities (or Colonies) is to be minimzed. Police and military control duties will be overseen by a mixed force of Earth Kingdom and Water Tribe peacekeepers.

3. The Fire Nation, Earth Kingdom and Water Tribe agree to release all civilian and military Prisoners of War, and to guarantee the safety of their return to their respective home countries.

3. i. All civilian refugees seeking to return to the Occupied Cities are to be accommodated and housed by a non-aligned civilian organisation to be established at a later date. In the meantime they are to be treated as freed military POWs.

4. The Fire Nation will pay its war guilt reparations in material goods, as follows:

4. i. The design blueprints for all current and next-generation Fire Nation warships, airships and armoured ground vehicles are to be distributed to the other nations.

4. ii. Fifteen percent of the Fire Nation's current raw materials output is to be shipped in equal proportions to the Earth Kingdom and both Water Tribes

5. A War Crimes Tribunal, incorporating representatives from all 3 nations, will be established to investigated claimed atrocities and violations of human deceny.

6. All Fire Nation naval vessels are to return to that country's coastal waters. All warships of battlecruiser size and up are to be turned over to Water Tribe and Earth Kingdom control.

6. i. The Fire Nation will immediately demilitarize and demobilize its airship fleet.

That's the gist of it. All this really is a stopgap measure; the world needs to recover and get back on it's feet from the upheaval the Avatar's return has caused. Frankly, we expected something more devious from the White Lotus, but for all purposes this seems to be an entirely legitimate armistice. Admittedly, they could have done more to reduce the Fire Nation's military strength beyond removing their airships and a fair chunk of their Navy, but the military conservatives in the Nation would never stand for it. Though the Political Office wouldn't never admit it, we think this is a sign that the Lotus are moving away from direct conflict. Which is good for us, obviously.

-Dorje

DOCUMENT ARCHIVE:

ANNOTATIONS:

Owl, 101 A.C: A decent summation. He glossed over most of the economics. Ah well, another one for the archives

Kou Le, 107 A.C: 'We think this is a sign the lotus are moving away from direct conflict'? Wow, hindsight is a _bitch_.

Kamaru, 125 A.C: I would have to disagree with the Owl. I appreciate this is a somewhat informal document, but really, the Political Office should have better _standards_. Speaking of standards, Kou Le should be ashamed of himself- swearing, on an archived document? Really, now.

Owl, 125 A.C: Kamaru, you've been warned about commenting on Political Office records. Stay out of these files.

Kamaru, 125 A.C: Oh, go stuff your bea- [ORIGINAL ANNOTATION COPY SEVERELY DAMAGED]

Owl, 125 A.C: Let that be a warning to the rest of you.

Haoren, 178: This document has been digitized as per the Si Wong Retrieval Project, with the Owl's permission. The bloodstains over Kamaru's rant have been edited away for reading convenience.

Owl, 203 A.C: In light of the Incident at the Si Foundation base in Yue Crater, this document is being moved to the 'Ember Group/Trans-dimensional Anomalies' section.

Lohengramm, 256 A.C: Owl, might I recommend this be moved into the section relating to the Elrics? It could be valuable background information.

Owl, 256 A.C: A copy has been crosslinked. I've also forwarded it to the Amestrian network for referencing.

Lohengramm, 256 A.C: Much appreciated. Thank you.


	10. IX- The Ember, Kindled

The Barren Atoll was, on first glance, almost incredibly unremarkable. A few dozen kilometres off the northwest coast of the Fire Nation, it was a rough circle of impassable reefs and squat, rocky islands. The only remotely interesting feature was Seamount 96, an extinct volcano which cast its lumpen shadow over the blue-gray waters of the atoll. The islands themselves were lifeless, all attempts at farming, fishing or colonization having been rendered moot by the rocky seas and remarkably infertile soil. It had never occurred to anyone that, volcanic soil being incredibly rich, a lifeless island in the shadow of a dead mountain was a near impossibility.

All this information could be found, properly filed, in the head record offices of the Fire Nation Royal Geographical Survey. Nobody ever noticed that all the members of the survey team that had charted Barren subsequently vanished under mysterious circumstances. Nor had anyone ever correlated the regular sightings of boiling seas, smoke clouds and bizarre currents with reports of 'sea monsters' and 'strange vessels' around the atoll. All according to plan, of course.

The bizarrely smooth, regular seabed of Barren was marked by only one anomaly: a vast bubble, an oblong of translucent glass and steel rivets five hundred meters wide and a little over two kilometres long. Though it occupied a considerable chunk of the six-kilometre-wide atoll, it was so camouflaged that it was functionally invisible from the surface, even to the seabirds circling above. At night, the waters of the lagoon glowed faintly- algae, the expedition said. The truth was far simpler: a city's worth of gas lights. The misdirection was all according to plan, of course. To the inhabitants of the complex hidden within the atoll, Barren wasn't barren at all. Quite the contrary. The place they fondly called the Lagoon was coming to life. And it was spoiling for a fight.

A slow, roiling shockwave washed over the seabed, throwing up clouds of bubbles from the hidden fish and kelp farms. The rocks began to tremble, vibrating under the influence of an unseen force. Huge sheets of carefully tailored stone and mud rose off the seabed and rolled aside, revealing masses of machinery lying in wait just below the surface. The water blazed with light as thousands of magnesium lanterns flickered to life, their harsh white glow shining off the surface of the four huge pontoons, inflating from amongst the metal. They hove skywards, trailing hawsers and thick lines. They broke surface, foaming, and the cables reeled in, pulling four accordion-like assemblies of metal from the seabed, each an expanding box large enough to fit a small town inside. Guided by the heavy-suited divers who suddenly swarmed the atoll, delicate metal scaffolds were levered into place, firmly connecting the pontoons and the umbilicals they trailed. In the direct centre of the square whose corners were marked by the pontoons, a regular lump of earth and rock stirred, then began to telescope upwards, shedding layers of debris and revealing a brilliant red pagoda roof. The expanding tower bloomed, flower-like as it hit the surface, prefabricated docks and shipping berths unrolling like parchment along the surface, where they were rapidly tethered to the seafloor. The tip of the tower groaned to a halt, great clouds of steam and seawater mist billowing from its joints. All along its height, wicked anti-air defences showed their needle-like barrels.

There was brief stillness in the Lagoon, then one final, convulsive rumble. The top of Seamount 96 fell away in a thunder of explosive charges, revealing three gigantic brick smokestacks, their tops already spitting sparks and ash.

_UUUUUULLLLLLAAAAAAAA!_

The steam whistle echoed from the rock and metal. Then, labouring out of the umbilicals came airships. A flock of smoke-trailing gasbags. Dozens, at first. Then hundreds. They could fit three abreast in the great launch tubes, and the buzz of their engines was a never-ending cry of defiance and anger.

The sea boiled from the roiling of propellers, as a fleet of submersibles forged into the inky depths of the oceans. Coded flashes of light danced back and forth from the peak of the tower to the airships, which responded in kind. They wheeled like gulls, turning to the southeast. The Capital was their goal.

Every airship, every submersible, every diving suit, every bolt and rivet in this vast assembly bore the same emblem: the three bars and square of the Ember Group. After seventy-six years in waiting, the Ember was at war.

* * *

The man with the sword and the beard grinned wider, his yellow smile looking somewhat less cheerful. The tip of the blade brushed Al's throat.

"You deaf, boy? Your valuables. Now."

Al, not in his usual state of mind, said something very disparaging about the bandit's mother. In Amestrian. Then he repeated it in Common. The bandit stopped smiling entirely, then drew back the sword and walloped him over the top of the head with the flat of the blade. Al gritted his teeth.

"You've got quite the mouth, boy. Give me the money, and I'll let you live. Although I might just take that silver tongue of yours."

There was a snort of cruel laughter from behind him, and Al stopped edging his hands together as something sharp touched the back of his neck. Something like a low grumbling was nagging at the edge of his hearing. The bandit gave him another wallop.

"Fine. Have it your way. We'll just have to deal with your friend, straw-haired boy."

Al realized that what he'd thought might be muffled swearing was just that. Ed lay trussed up a short distance away, his hands tied behind his back and a large chunk of broken airship hull resting on top of his automail foot. For a few brief seconds, he managed to get the gag out of his mouth.

"...AND JUST WHO D'YOU THINK YOU'RE CALLING A LITTLE SHRIMP, YOU MPHMHPGH-"

One of the bandits (of whom Al realized there were quite a few) kicked Ed in the ribs as another pulled a burlap sack over his head. The angry roarings stopped.

"Consider yourself lucky, boy. Not only did you survive an airship crash, but you also ended up in my warm and brotherly hospitality. The valuables."

The bandit behind him wrenched him to his feet. He wobbled, feeling somewhat concussed, blinking against the setting orange sun. He hadn't realized how much his head hurt. One of his ankles seemed to be strained, and, if the sharp pain that accompanied breathing was any indication, he seemed to have cracked a rib or two. The bandit's gesture brushed his lower back, and he gasped from the sharp throbbing of bruises.

The airship, or what was left of it, had arrived... wrong. Sky-steel girders and beams looked half-melted, protruding from the undisturbed ground like broken ribs. Several patches of grassy soil were coated with hoarfrost, while others had been burned to glass. It was if the very elements had recoiled at their arrival. They were at the bottom of a low, grassy hill, and if the distant steppe stretching off into the distance was any indication, they weren't near anyone. Or anything. There was a sharp poke to the small of his back, and he stumbled forwards, hissing in pain.

"Frankly, it'd probably be worth just killing you know. Unless you get a hell of a lot more coo-"

A low roar cut him off, the beastly sound echoing over the plains to be lost in the wind. All eyes turned uphill. Out of the sunset rode a lone silhouette, its outline blurred in the heat haze rising off the grass. Out of the light emerged a figure in a long black cloak, wearing a conical straw hat that partially concealed its masked face. Resting in the crook of one black-clad arm was a long lance, its diamond point backed by a long black ribbon. And it was riding a bear. Al cocked an eyebrow. That was... unexpected.

The bandit leader gawped, incredulous, then quickly fixed his resolve to the sticking place, his face hardening.

"The Bear Lancer", he spat.

* * *

Mai stood in the garden, staring down a bush. Leaves and branches rustled to and fro in the light breeze. Her eyes narrowed.

"Um, milady?"

She drew her arm back, then flicked her wrist. There was a snap of fabric, and a tiny knife arced around the bush, embedding itself in the wooden post she'd had hammered upright behind it. The orderly gulped nervously. Mai rolled her eyes.

"Yes?"

"It's about, uh, the Avatar's... lemur."

A teak case stood next to her on stout legs. She reached into it, pulling out a long bundle of thin cord with a narrow metal spike tied to one end. _Hiss, thunk._ The tip of the rope dart hit the post dead centre. The cord hadn't touched any of the leaves.

"Momo. What about it."

In her bored tones, the question sounded more like a statement.

"Well, milady, it would a-appear that, um, M-Momo is-"

There was a shrill screeching from inside the nearest wing of the palace. Mai sighed, rubbing a hand across her brow. A second orderly barged through a sliding door, an angry ball of gray and black fur swarming about his head. Mai sighed again.

"Momo. _Shut up._"

The words were accompanied by an unpleasant humming as she spun the rope dart in a tight silver blur around her left arm. Both the orderly and the lemur stopped fighting, one wary, the other bleeding rather badly from his nose.

"The last thing I need right now is an annoying ball of fur making-"

Momo stiffened, his ears perking up. With a convulsive leap and a shrill chirp of panic, he had landed on Mai's shoulder and curled about her neck. She didn't even flinch, only looked down at the scared animal with complete impassivity. Then her eyes widened ever so slightly as she heard it too. The distant drone of airship engines. Then a string of explosions and the palace alarm horns. Finally, above it all, a weird, inhuman two-tone shriek. A shadow passed across the sun. Airships. Airships everywhere. And if the little stick figures dropping free from their undersides were any indication, they weren't friendly.

"Ah. Exciting."

Unhurriedly, she began to transfer knives from the teak case to her sleeves, and even (the orderly averted his eyes) her ankles.

"Momo, find somewhere safe to hide. I might need you later."

The lemur skedaddled to the sound of clattering boots as a troupe of red-uniformed Royal Guard firebenders double-timed their way into the garden. Their leader was about to speak when Mai cut him off with a sharp gesture.

"Form on me. And don't get in my way."

* * *

"One minute to drop!"

Rocking back and forth in the bowels of the troop airship _Endless Sky_, Si glanced one last time at the rows of dials and indicator toggles covering his left forearm. Steam pressure, gyroscopes, hydraulics, cable tension... everything was as it should be. He was safely ensconced in a suit of Specialist Powered Harness, a body-hugging system of hydraulics and carefully tuned counterweights which allowed the light suit of metal armour he wore to carry impossible loads. The SP harness was itself connected to the drop gantries of the _Sky_, which would, when the time came, send him plummeting, falling in a metal coffin, with only a-

"Ten seconds!"

He swallowed, shakily. Planning this back at the Lagoon was one thing. Actually executing a Harness-aided combat drop into partially secured territory was something entirely different. He knew a good general lead from the fore, alongside the soldiers, and Si (with all due modesty) thought himself a good general. So here he was.

"Five!"

The soldier in harness next to him- Hyunseo, he thought her name was, gave him a quick thumbs up, ignoring that the portable cannon she held in her other hand was longer than she was tall.

"Four!"

The soldier on the other side- Si hadn't caught his name- stretched lazily, the three-barreled mortar projector mounted on one shoulder whirring back on soft bearings to let his shoulder move freely.

"Three!"

Someone down the line began to chant, his voice muffled by the thick material of Si's helmet.

"Here we go! Here we go!"

"Two!"

The chant spread; it seemed like something the drop troops had done before.

"One!"

"Here we goooooooooo-!"

"DROP!"

The floor opened beneath him, and Si fell into space, the back of his suit trailing thick cable. His stomach rose into his throat as he plummeted, too scared to cry out. As he had been instructed, he kept the instrumentation panel within view, watching the little wind-speed indicator go higher and higher as the altimeter went lower and lower. He shook as a loud _snap_! Came from behind him. The toggle marked "Rckt Decel." switched from red to green. They had told him to clench his teeth when that happened, because-

The retro rockets attached to the end of the cable activated, the concussion and sudden deceleration hitting him in the small of the back hard enough to drive the wind from his lungs. The hiss of wind was replaced by a droning rumble, and he was shaken about, buffeted by the torrent of fire he new was streaming from the grapnel that connected him to the airship. The shaking stopped. He hadn't realized he'd had his eyes scrunched tight until he opened them, seeing "Drop harn." switch to red. There was another _snap!_, louder this time, and he pitched forwards. And took a step, the SP Harness bearing his weight with a hiss and a creak. He blinked and looked around. He was in the gardens of the Fire Nation Royal Palace. And there were soldiers everywhere. One of them, a major to go by his insignia, was walking towards him. Si unsealed his visor, deafened momentarily by the inrush of sound. Boots thumped, propellers buzzed, rockets roared, and above it all was the worryingly loud _thump, thump, thump_ of nearby artillery. The major had to yell to make himself heard.

"General! Welcome to the Capital! If you'll come with me, we've got the Lady under guard!"

Si nodded, and walked stiffly away into the chaos of a war zone.

* * *

A low whispering ran about the bandits. Al only caught some of it, but what he heard was worrying.

"The Rider in Black!"

"The Man of the Manchae!

" -heard he killed the Dread Pirate!"

"- three men with one blow-"

"Not even a platypus bear or-"

"It eats men whole!"

The Lancer brought the tip of his weapon up, thumping the butt of the seven-foot long lance on the ground as he halted a ways up the hill. Al wasn't sure which was more menacing- the man in black, or the very brown, very shaggy, very toothy beast.

"What ho, friends!"

Al snorted back a laugh. The Lancer's voice, alas, didn't match his appearance. He spoke like a small man trying very hard to make himself sound very large. And not succeeding. Al realized that, though he seemed comfortable riding a bear, he didn't exactly look like he knew how to use the lance. There was a certain awkwardness about him- Al was reminded of a child on All Hallow's Eve, excited to be in costume but uncomfortable at the same time. The bandit leader spat again, and there was a cautious move towards various weapons among his followers.

"None of your concern, stranger. Be about your business."

The Lancer laughed. Several weapons were drawn.

"Ah, but it is my business, friend! You appear to be robbing that golden-coiffed traveller!"

Al snorted again. What kind of vigilante/bandit killer said things like 'golden-coiffed'? He sounded like a character from a 25-cent adventure novel. Everyone had their weapons out.

"You got a problem with that, stranger? Say it to my face!"

The Lancer laughed again, and Al caught the slightest hint of manic hysteria in his tone. He was very, very afraid. But hiding it admirably.

"Of course I have a problem with you pilfering the prized possessions of this imperilled pedestrian! But so do you!"

"I- what?"

The bandit stared at the Lancer, complete bewilderment dripping copiously from his bearded face. The Lancer hopped down, giving the bear a reassuring pat on the flank with his free hand. His cloak swirled about him, suitably dramatically.

"None of you really wanted to become criminals, did you?"

He raised his voice to a shout, addressing the entire startled group.

"Now hold on a minute, stranger-"

The Lancer shook his head sadly.

"I know how it happened. One day you were in the fields, or in the streets, or your home, and you were busy living. Loving. Making the most of life. You were happy. But the next thing you knew you'd lost everything. Maybe the Earth Kingdom took it from you. Maybe the Fire Nation did. It doesn't matter. Because in the blink of an eye you lost your possessions, but more importantly you lost your friends, your family. You lost all those you love. But still you hoped, and you tried to work to fix your straits, to restore all that was taken from you. And you were betrayed. Nobody believed in the hope you so desperately clung to. Not only did you lose hope, but you lost _trust_. Left with nothing- less than nothing. All you really want is hope. You don't want to rob! You don't want to murder, to tear apart the lives of others! You are not men of iron, machine men stomping on the face of humanity! Never! You're better than that! You are lost children of the Earth, trodden upon by those who should have been your guardians and protectors! All you want is a loving face! Somewhere to call home! You want to hope! You want to trust! You want to believe in something! You want somebody to believe in you, to believe that you can live your lives free of fear and loss! Believe in me! I believe in hope! I believe in you! I believe this Kingdom can live free of fear!"

There was utter silence. Stillness. Al's jaw dropped. _Mein Gott._ This man could _talk_. The oratory wasn't practised, the words were cliched, but they were spoken with such _passion_. This man believed in what he said.

One of the bandits dropped his sword with a clatter, collapsing to his knees as fat tears rolled down his cheeks. Suddenly all the bandits were prostrating themselves before the Lancer, shouting tearful apologies and begging forgiveness. Al couldn't help but think of Father Cornello. This man wasn't a religious demagogue, but there was no way in hell he was just a simple vigilante. Then he realized the leader of the bandits was still standing, his face set like stone.

Howling, the bandit charged, his sword held high.

* * *

The major, one Chenzin by name, led Si through the rapidly growing beachhead in the palace grounds, his dusty armour glinting dully. Si had dropped in the second wave, and evidence of the Ember Group's remarkable talent for rapid mobilization was everywhere. Lines of blocky prefabricated barracks had gone up, and teams of engineers scurried everywhere, antlike as they buried fuel stores and laid sandbags. The major glanced back at him as they picked their way over a ruined hedge bisected by a newly laid dirt road.

"She's in the throne room, along with some of the royal guard Firebenders. When we first- whoops-"

He dodged to one side, Si following, as a line of Howling Dragon artiller carriers rumbled past, their thick rubber tires doing atrocious things to what was left of the lawn. Chenzin continued through the thick haze of coal dust they left in their wake, undaunted.

"We made the mistake of sending in only light groups, thinking we wouldn't need the Harness. Bows, scatter and flame projectors. Lady Mai rallied the guard and tore through us."

"Losses?"

"Lots of casualties, few deaths. They seemed to think killing us was a waste of their time."

"But they're secured now?"

"Yessir. While the light infantry was holding them down, we sent in two mixed platoons from the Armoured Infantry. They agreed to stop fighting, but they still aren't disarmed."

They crossed an ornamental bridge over a beautifully landscaped stream, the weight of Si's armour making the wood groan alarmingly. A ways off, a company of Skyward Dragons began firing, their rockets streaking upwards on wailing columns of flame. Slowly, the noise faded away into a receding screech. When they were almost invisible, there was a faintly audible string of popping noises.

"Anti-air mines, major?"

"Only half our full spread."

"Ah, for the load lifters."

"Yessir. You'll be able to manage everything when we've got the command center unpacked in the throne room. We've got a temporary one I can take you to-"

"That won't be necessary. My goal is the Lady Mai."

They reached the ruins of a door, two slabs of teak and iron blown off their hinges by the concussion of an explosive arrow. The cool dimness of the space inside was quieter, but no less chaotic than outside. The entirety of the Ember Group Archival Task Force was going over the palace with a fine-toothed comb. Instead of weapons, their armoured forms bore punch-card imprinters and storage racks. They moved meticulously from room to room, tagging and recording every historical artifact or document they could find. It was a ransack, done with professionalism and class. The modified Powered Harness they wore allowed each Archivist to carry massive loads of artifacts and artworks, and the more efficient among them looked like walking piles of ornamentation, they were so loaded down. Si nodded at the nearest among them as he and the major passed. The armoured figure inclined its head, but otherwise continued about its work. Though members of the Ember Group, the Archivists answered only to the Owl's authority.

They hurried through the hallways, the bustle of combat growing fainter and more distant, and the rooms growing larger as they approached the centre of the vast building. Si had a rough mental image of the three-winged layout of the Palace, and as they made their way along the marble floor of a large portrait gallery he realized they were not far from the throne room, or at least its anterooms. In fact, right through that wall-

With a crash an a roar, the eight-foot-tall form of a trooper in Assault Powered Harness punched through the wall, apparently having missed a swing. Its momentum carried it forwards, trailing broken wood as its clawed metal feet tore gouges out of the floor. With a flash, several small silver objects flew through the gap it had left, piercing the exposed joints at its knees and ankles. Haemorrhaging steam, the AP Harness twisted and fell, landing on its back with one leg splayed awkwardly out and the other crushed beneath it. Chenzin yelped, fumbling for a pistol bow as he shakily unsheathed his dao. Ignoring him, Si rushed to the fallen soldier, realizing as he passed the hole that it led directly to the commotion in the next room. He dropped to one knee at the die of the fallen AP harness, ignoring Chenzin's frantic calls for him to move away from the hole in the wall. He wrenched off the emergency bolts, and the harness' mantlet hissed open, revealing the understandably shaken-looking man inside.

"Are you all right?"

The soldier nodded, with the usual nonchalance that came from wearing almost a ton of articulated metal plate.

"Just fine, sir. Lower body intakes are shot, I took some heat damage to my left intakes," he said, extracting one hand from the control rig and stifling a sneeze, "and there's spirit-damned sawdust _everywhere_."

"What happened? Mai was supposed to be secure!"

"She got impatient. And so she jumped on the back of Captain Lee's armour and started throwing knives everywhere. Whoever thought it would be a good idea to let her stay with the Royal Guard was a right idiot."

There was a mechanical screech and a flash of light from the hole, followed by an earth-shaking boom. The Harness operator rolled his eyes

"Aaaand of course it's always a good idea to take on infantry with an _anti-tank projector._ Idiots."

Si stood, waving Chenzin away.

"Major, reinforcements. Soldier, I need a weapon."

The major hurried off, not bothering to hide his relief. Thumbing a control stud, the operator brought the right shoulder of the suit forwards. The multi-tubed scatter projector there popped off its mounting, a simple grip and trigger assembly unfolding on springs. Si hefted it, feeling the suit whir to life as it absorbed the weight. It was as wide as he was, and more than a meter long.

"You've got 8 shots. Forget about accuracy, you don't need it. Each barrel fires a spread of four bullets. Don't bother aiming. Point and pull the trigger."

The anteroom was a madhouse. Or perhaps a brawl. On one end of the columned hall was the gray of the Ember group, crouched behind the columns as they poured fire down the room. At the other end was the red and gold of the Firebenders, who were also pouring fire down the room, but in a far more literal sense. There was at least one Ember Group earthbender in harness, so the floor of the room was constantly buckling and shifting, cover sprouting up in front of the soldiers as they sought new vantages. There were also a pair of waterbenders, who were flinging darts of pressurized water, their armour coated in a misting layer of ice. Si was closer to the Ember Group side, but nobody seemed to have seen him, so he remained on the threshold of the door. It was impossible to tell who was winning- if the large holes all through the walls were any indication, the fight stretched over multiple rooms.

Someone shouted a frantic warning, and Mai entered the fray. Her face wasn't visible- she was moving too fast for that. Nevertheless, Si knew of only one person who could vault off a previously-unnoticed balcony high up in the rafters, kick-slide down a pillar, and pin a man to a pillar by his thigh. She kicked off the screaming soldier and dropped into a roll, distributing an impressive array of knives into the Ember Group line as arrows exploded around her. Then she was among them, switching to a pair of rope darts. She wrapped one around a man's throat, pulling him down and stepping off his gut as she incapacitated another man with a swift kick to the knee. Pulling both darts up, she lashed them out in a wide circle, clearing a space around her. One caught a soldier in the throat, and she dropped, gurgling, her flame projector clattering to the ground. Mai leapt at it, scooping it up in one arm. Her momentum carried her around and she threw the weapon overhand at the Earthbender. He brought a wall of stones up to protect himself, and the fuel tank ruptured against it, high-pressure fluid spraying everywhere. Then it caught a wayward fireball. There was a vast, rumbling explosion. The waterbenders were mashed against a pillar, cracking it, and a section of the roof fell in in a shower of dust and tile. Mai stumbled backwards, caught by surprise. She was facing away from him. Si threw himself forwards, throwing himself into a roll. As he was in midair, he remembered that SP Harnesses, while flexible, were not designed for rolling in. The manoeuvre turned into an awkward kneeling dive. He ended up directly behind her, the eight barrels of the projector pressed into the small of her back. She half-turned, eyes widening. Si tightened his finger on the trigger.

"Hold it!"

To his surprise, they did. The firebenders immediately ceased fire, calling to their compatriots several rooms over to do the same. Si glanced over at them, then realized his mistake as Mai's wrist flickered, driving the point of a rope dart into the cylindrical steam turbine engine slung across his back. There was a wail of broken machinery as several of the gauges on his wrist shot into the red. Mai sighed, her face locking back into its habitual expression of utter boredom.

"Oh, great. A standoff."

"And how's that, lady?"

"If you use whatever it is you've got pressed into my spine, I die. Unless you're bluffing, which I doubt. If I pull this rope, and the dart comes free, that steam thing on _your _spine goes boom. I should know. I've already done it to three people."

Si gulped. More and more dials were going red, and there was an uncomfortable heat suffusing his back. There was a long silence. Sweat dripped down his forehead. Then there was a _clunk_, and an incongruously cheerful _ding_! A voice spoke from the balcony. Si glanced up. There was an SP harness trooper there, its huge rifle levelled.

"Lady Mai, this is a Seafoam Forge Mark Seven man-portable anti-armour steam projector. The most powerful infantry weapon in the world. Now you might be able to get out of the way of a shell designed to reduce plate steel to ash, or maybe you might not. _I _haven't been keeping track. The question is: do you feel lucky, _milady_?"

* * *

The bandit charged, and both /the Lancer and Ed moved to meet him. Al saw his brother's restraints melt away in a flash of alchemical static as he brought his hands together, then hit the ground. The lance was raised to impale the bandit, but the bright flash of light from the transmutation made the bear shy back. The bandit stumbled, his momentum carrying him forward as a fist-shaped pillar of rock rose from the earth and connected with his groin. The force of the impact carried him skyward, his legs flailing out and the sword falling from his nerveless fingers. Then a second pillar hit him in the stomach. He went _whoomph _as the air was forced even higher. Then he hit the tip of the lance, which scored a long line of blood across his face and upper chest. One final stone hand rose up, wrapping his ankle in its stony grip and smashing him face-first into the ground. Total elapsed time, maybe three seconds.

The girder holding Ed's foot down distorted with a screech, the metal folding away as he got to his feet, giving his automail an experimental flex.

"Bastard shouldn't've called me short."

* * *

"You do realize I hold no executive power, General."

"Please don't patronize me, Lady Mai. You're Fire Lady in all but name. Your word is law, and you know it."

"And you're going to use me in your little bid for power."

"This isn't a coup, Lady. In fact the last thing on our minds at the moment is the governance of the Fire Nation. At least for now."

"Hmph. You've invaded the palace with a large, well-trained army, have occupied the seat of power, confiscated all the valuables and administrative documents... from where I'm sitting, this looks like a coup. I've been party to coups before, General. I know one when I see one."

"You'll get your documents back, eventually. And most of your valuables. We're taking them for archival reasons. And though this isn't a military operation, it isn't a coup."

"You tried to assassinate Zuko. And me along with him."

"Ah. You figured that out. Look, Lady, that was an extremely poor decision on our part, one which we have come to regret. If it's any help, I can assure you that, though your husband never reached the North Pole, he isn't under our control and he's probably still alive."

"I'd very much like to kill you, General Si."

"I was afraid of that... but that nice man in AP Harness does have a rocket launcher and an anti-tank projector pointed at you, so let's discuss your future."

Mai's eyes narrowed, ever so slightly. Si failed to recognize this as a danger sign.

"General, I'm a tractable leader figure surrounded by big scary men in big scary armour who fly around in big scary airships. Now what?"

"Now? Now you're free to do whatever you wish, for an hour or two. Provided it dosn't interfere with our operations. Then you'll be put on a fast airship and flown anywhere in the world you desire."

"That's _it_?"

"That's it."

"Huh. I expected more from... what do I call your organization, exactly? Oh, I like the emblem, by the way. Very modern. Azula would have approved."

"Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't-"

"These aren't normal circumstances. Spit it out."

"I'm General Si of the Ember Group. And how is the... unfortunate princess?"

"Ember Group? Interesting. Azula's still batshit insane."

"Your tact does you credit, as always."

"Ha. Ha. Do you know where the War Council is? I've got to make... a few announcements."

"I believe they're in the royal bunker. Still alive, no fear. Although..."

"If I wanted them executed, I'd do it myself."

"But of course, Lady Mai."

Without any further words, the two leaders, one in badly damaged powered armour, the other in heavy ceremonial robes stuffed full of knives parted ways. True to her word, Mai made her way to her first meeting with the War Council. There, she announced to the stunned War Ministers and Generals that she was assuming full executive powers as Fire Lady, and that several emergency governance plans, holdovers from the Hundred-Year War, were to be set in motion. One War Minister expressed his disagreement, citing concerns that Mai was no better than the royal concubine and thus not fit to clean his, the Minister for Supplies', backside. Mai's rebuttal was pointed: an ornate and delicate stiletto, pinning the Minister's hand against the wood of the conference table. The meeting concluded without significant loss of blood, and Mai found herself on the spacious, if spartan bridge of the Ember Group airship _Uncarved Block_. Momo sat on her shoulder, obviously uncomfortable but lacking any better options.

"Where to, milady?" asked the captain, his air of temporarily assumed neutrality palpable. Mai gave a rare grin. A deeply frightening grin.

"Kiyoshi Island, captain. I have to visit a few girlfriends."

After she'd been dropped off with very little fanfare, her statement was duly recorded by the _Block_'s intelligence officer, and archived temporarily at the Lagoon. It sat there for about a week before a minor clerk, on a whim, crosschecked the list of persons of interest on Kiyoshi with Mai's known associates. What followed was the bureaucratic equivalent of a bowel-loosening howl of terror.

-~0X0~-

Oh, is it ever good to be back! Thanks to all you fine people who reviewed and favourited! I also gotta make a special shout out to V2 2011 Group B on the Tischu-Keele-Natla-Ravens Throat-Redstone, for willingly being my captive audience for two whole months. Oh yeah: the entirety of this chapter was written on note paper, on a canoeing trip in northern Canada.

Chapter 10 is nearing completion, but I'm just starting university, so the ETA is... difficult to predict.


	11. Document: Attuned Benders and You!

Attuned Benders and _You_!

Everyone knows about benders, those gifted individuals who can control one of the four elements: Water, Earth Fire and Air. But as a new member of the Ember Group, you may be unfamiliar with a fifth variety of bender: the Attuned.

_What is an Attuned?_

To understand the Attuned, we must first understand how bending works. All living things have a chi system: a flow of spiritual energy throughout the body which keeps us healthy and sane. All objects in nature have their own, weaker chi presence. Benders are able to harness that energy flow and redirect it, using their own chi to influence the chi present in the elements nearby. Attuned are simply a reversal of that process. Thanks to a rigorous training program and minor brain surgery, the chi system of the Attuned acts somewhat like a syphon or a lens, drawing in natural energy, instead of the other way around.

This means that an Attuned can sense changes in the natural world. An Attuned earthbender feels the presence and location of minerals and vibration in the earth's crust. A waterbender detects humidity and moisture levels. An airbender feels air currents and pressure differentials. A firebender senses heat and cold, as well as the presence of combustion. A well-trained Attuned, when assisted by a combination of harmless stimulants and psychotropic drugs can extend their radius of sensation to several hundred kilometres.

ADDENDUM: Anyone caught attempting to acquire Attuned drug mixtures will be summarily sentenced to psyche wiping. These drugs are for Attuned use _only_.

Attuned are still capable of bending in the normal sense, but not at the level of regular benders. Because of the strain on their chakra systems, they are limited to extremely basic bending forms for short periods of time.

_Where do Attuned benders work?_

The roles filled by the Attuned are so wide-ranging that there are too many to list here! Attuned work in communications, surveying and prospecting, manufacturing, and even medicine. They are our first line of defence against the nefarious forces of the White Lotus. Knowledge is power, and the talent these benders possess make them the most knowledgeable of all!

_How do I recognize an Attuned?_

All Attuned are required to wear distinct uniform patterns: If you see a fellow member of the Ember Group wearing a white uniform jacket with gray trim, you'll know they've joined the elite ranks of the Attuned. You may also notice that Attuned will eat unusual amounts of food, and show a marked preference for cool, dry places. This is normal. The chi system of an Attuned is always running at full capacity, leading to a boosted metabolism and greatly increased body temperature. If you see an Attuned who has become incapacitated by heatstroke, exhaustion or drug overdose, contact your local Medical Response Hub immediately.

_How should I act around Attuned?_

Though their bending has expanded their senses, the Attuned are still regular people, just like you and me. When meeting an Attuned for the first time, be polite and courteous, as you would to any member of the Group's military arm. However, there are a few courtesy items you should be aware of. Do not be surprised if an Attuned seems to display precognitive or extrasensory abilities. This is simply their Attunement acting subconsciously, allowing to sense what they cannot see or feel. Ordinary benders should take care when bending near an Attuned of the same element. Always ask permission before doing so, as bending unannounced may startle or break the concentration of the Attuned. Be aware that an Attuned who is sensing at the limit of their capacity may disrupt bending around them. Do not be surprised if you have difficulty controlling your bending near an Attuned. This is normal, and impossible to avoid.

_How do I become an Attuned?_

The requirements for joining the Attuned are simple: you must have undergone Psychological Combat Indoctrination Level 3 or higher. You must be a bender certified for either Combat or Utility Training bending. You must pass a Psychological Stability psyche dredging of at least depth 8. Furthermore, you must not have any allergies to gluten, nut proteins, dairy products, and opiates. For further information, contact an Ember Integration Associate.

DOCUMENT ARCHIVE:

ANNOTATIONS:

Hong, 95 A.C.: It boggles my mind that this was ever published. Not only does it gloss over a vast amount of information, but it also treats the reader like an idiot.

Zhou Nu, 118 A.C.: How so?

Hong, 95 A.C.: Where to start? Firstly, all that stuff explaining what bending is: what is this, written for _children_? Next: 'minor brain surgery'? When I became Attuned, I spent three months in a medically induced coma. They stripped out most of the nerve fibre in my arms, legs and lower torso, did _something_ to it, then put it back in. There's also the history, or lack thereof: they completely failed to mention that the first Attuned were basically guinea pigs. None of them lasted very long. It's what happens when you get vivisected, generally.

Cheangbok, 95 A.C.: He's got a point. My grandad was a second-generation Attuned, back before they'd worked most of the kinks out. If he didn't drink about six liters of water a day, his liver would fail. There was a minor earthquake once and it actually drove him to a nervous breakdown from the mental trauma.

Hagane, 95 A.C.: I'm glad they've changed the format for these information packages. Failing to inform people about the monstrous things the Ember Overlord Forge did is just as criminal as they were.

Hong, 95 A.C.: I wouldn't call the Ember Overlords criminal, but there's no doubt that what they did was completely inhuman.

Shaomei, 95 A.C.: Thank god the Old Ember Group is dead and gone. We need to leave the atrocities of the past behind us.

Haoren, 178: This document has been digitized as per the Si Wong Retrieval Project, with the Owl's permission.


	12. Document: AntiTulpa Warfare, The Basics

Document: A transcript of "Anti-Tulpa Warfare: The Basics" made by Master Sergeant (rtd.) "Thunderclap" Mao, Ex-commanding officer, First Heavy Infantry "Thunderbolt's Fists". [Text edited for brevity and clarity]

Listen up, maggots! This here's a Tulpa. You've got your cockpit, your body, and-

[Interruption from the audience]

What do you mean "what's a Tulpa"? Spirits damn it, do they teach you nothing in combat indoctrination? Fine. Have you ever seen one of those weird-ass street performers control a puppet with bending? A Tulpa's like that, except a few thousand times larger and much more likely to ruin your day. Oh, and the puppeteer is a dozen or so murderous rakshasa. Now, the 'Shasa being demons, they have a few peculiar abilities beyond the ken of us humble mortals. Namely, if they have access to a willing bender in our world, their bending in the Spirit world can influence the elements in ours. We call these intermediary benders Locii, or pilots if you can't understand big, fancy words. At the heart of each Tulpa swarm is one, or two, or a dozen bending Locii. Now each Locus (singular of Locii, for you idiots in the back. Sorry major) can theoretically provide 'Shasa control over any number of Tulpa, regardless of element. However, the strain of having so many demons shunting energy through a human body can and will lead to a very unpleasant death. There was this one time; a fairly minor engagement on Lungfish Bay. My team had taken out five Locii, and so the 'Shasa tried to use him to control 250 water Tulpa at once. His cockpit was broken open, so I saw how he died. Let's just say human tissue does strange things when you put too much chi through it.

[Interruption from the audience]

Oh, his blood flash-froze and then he turned himself inside-out. Not the worst I've seen. There was this Earthbender who accidentally detonated all the bones in his- Right. So. If you knock out all the Locii in a swarm, you can break the 'Shasa control over the Tulpa. So how does one knock out a Tulpa? Well, I've got to go back to what I was saying before Private Shithead here interrupted me. So. Tulpa. Three major components, unviersal to all. Cockpit, body and core. The cockpit holds the pilot, andi s normally located near the head or eyes of the Tulpa. Just shoot at the glowy bits. The body is the combination of elements and elemental materials that let the Tulpa fight. Their composition varies widely. Air Tulpa are made of everything from light metals to wood and even plant fibres. Earth and Fire Tulpa are generally made of... well, earth and rocks, although in the case of fire Tulpa those materials will generally be superheated and partially melted. They usually have some sort of original, pre-made body, but it's covered up by whatever extra materials they've managed to assemble. Water Tulpa are the most organic of the four; they're formed from sculpted coral, mud, and conglomerations of plant material and other biomass. Seaweed and damp sludge. Anything porous. Though they all have the same internal structure, all Tulpa look vastly different. No two are completely alike. I saw an Earth one once covered in semi-precious stones. Its head was a single block of quartz the size of a house. Took five days of constant artillery fire before the rock even started to crack.

[Interruption from the audience]

Quartz is a mineral, not a stone? Well you can go [redacted].

So, regardless of the element or formation of the body, the most important part is the core. It's a solid ball of very, very dense heavy metals, roughly one-and-a-half to two meters across. We're not entirely sure what exactly the metals are, but they are not healthy for you. Trust me on this one. Constant exposure to a deactivated Tulpa core will give you volcanic shits the likes of which you would not believe. Suffice it to say, the core is what makes a Tulpa a Tulpa. You can destroy the cockpit, cripple the body, but if you don't kill the core a powered Tulpa will not die. If you damage it, the Tulpa will do one of three things. First, it might outright deactivate. Second, it will go berserk, lashing out randomly. In this state, any further damage to the core will deactivate it. Finally, and most dangerous of all, the core might overload. And go bang. With a lot of force. If you can get one Tulpa in the midst of a swarm to explode, you can sometimes get chain reactions of explosions that'll kill everything. Word of advice, though; the bit about 'unhealthy'? Still applies to a detonation. Don't go near the blast area if you can. It creates these dust clouds that cause surface burns and really nasty internal bleeding. The dust also seems to disinfect wounds, but don't go slathering yourself with it unless you're seriously gonna die of an infection; it slows the healing process and hurts like a bitch. That's how I lost my hand. So. To sum up. To deactivate a Tulpa, look for the Locii and kill them. Any Tulpa that acts cautiously, or does things like take cover. That's almost certainly piloted. You kill the pilots in the same way you destroy the core- excessive firepower. If the core and the Locii aren't completely dealt with, the Tulpa isn't dead.

One time, at the South Pole, we were pinned by this big mother of an Earth Tulpa, because that fuckwit General Fao Pai Mei-

[Interruption from the audience. Fao Pai Mei II and his entourage have stormed out]

-Hah. Had neglected to supply us with nearly enough PAC shells. So our waterbenders undermined the ice sheet and sunk the damn thing. We chucked depth charges at it until it stopped moving. Then we made the stupid decision of assuming that just because it wasn't fighting meant it was dead. Then, two weeks later at the Battle of Glacier Lake we got attacked by a mountain-sized cloud of gravel and sea salt. The moral of the story is- Kill the core. Always, always kill the core. Use bombs, shells, Bending- anything. You kill the core, you kill the Tulpa.

Let's look briefly at how Tulpa fight. I can't give you anything beyond generalizations, because each Tulpa is unique, but there are a few techniques and moves that seem to be common across each element. Earth Tulpa will almost always generate localized seismic disturbances. Earthquakes, Private Shithead. They won't heart you, but they'll throw off your aim and stand a really good chance of trashing any nearby field fortifications. Fire Tulpa, since they're always made at least partially of earth, can do that too. In addition, they seem to be fond of reverse firebending. Instead of burning a target, they'll suck out all of its head. They can get so cold that the air itself freezes. Then they're left with a shitload of leftover heat, and the burning happens. It's a hell of a one-two punch. Water Tulpa; well, this is less common, since it generally only happens when they're out of the water, but they have this super-high-pressure saltwater jet. Doesn't look or sound threatening, but it's erosive enough to punch through sky iron plating like paper. Lastly, the air Tulpa and their pressure cannons. They use this way more often than the other elements. It's some kind of vacuum generation; they suck all the air out of a space, and when the air around it collapses inwards, it superheats and explodes. Nasty stuff. And they can use it with surprising accuracy at very long ranges. That's all I can give you. You'll learn some helpful tips in Double-A-Two [AATu, Advanced Anti-Tulpa Training], but nothing more than tips.

We don't know how many 'Shasa are required to control one Tulpa. We don't know if and how they're made. We don't know how big they can get. And we don't know if there is such thing as a purely fire-element Tulpa, as opposed to an earth/fire hybrid like you usually see.

That's all I got.

[He stretches, and turns to the door]

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm 98 years old, my bladder is full, my hip is killing me and the latrines are that way. Stand between me and those toilets and I will end you.

Oh, right. DIS-MISSED.

[Mao died three weeks after this address, of apparently natural causes. This was his last official lecture]

DOCUMENT ARCHIVE:

ANNOTATIONS:

COMMENT THREAD CLOSED AND LOCKED.

REASON: Bitching about Fao Pai Mei. Really now, mortals.

-~0X0~-

So turns out that university is busy. Who'd a thought it? This is really just to tide you guys over, maybe sate your appetite a bit? I hope? Chapter 10, tentatively entitled 'The Wilted Lotus' is about half-finished, but I'm also gearing up to work on stuff for NaNoWriMo so I have no solid idea of when it'll be finished. Look for me on FictionPress if you want to see the original writing I'm working on, when it's done.

Oh yeah. Happy Halloween!


	13. X- Wilted Lotus

From the air, the Capital was a rough circle; a burnt-out volcanic crater, its outer slope striated by partially camouflaged defensive emplacements and the various sundry apparatus of newfound peace. The mansions that filled the circle were also arranged in rough concentric circles, dropping from precarious perches on the hillside down to the central bulls-eye of the Palace. The Ember Group had come from the northwest, overflying and completely ignoring the ring of defences. By the time the palace guard was mobilized, the palace itself was swarming with heavily armed drop troops, and Industrious Serpent carriers were already disgorging armoured spearheads. Mai's surrender stopped any real resistance dead in its tracks, but by the time she had done so the armoured columns had already rumbled up (or, in the case of those carrying Earthbenders, through) the hillside and taken the defenses. The genius siege engineers who had built the Capital had never anticipated an attack from the inside. The Capital had the strongest defensive emplacements in the world, but the Fire Nation's finest had no idea how to deal with polite requests to surrender coming from the speaking tubes of tanks which ignored their heaviest attacks at point-blank range. Then the infantry arrived, and their hearty encouragements to not do anything stupid rapidly forced their complete withdrawal. The Group had taken the Capital. As soon as the confused straggle of troops moving back into barracks was complete, the Ember Group engineering corps got to work. Joints were cracked. Pencils were sharpened. All across the capital, sheafs of onion-skin paper were laid under bright lights as eager engineers prepared to make their dreams reality. Dozens of Industrious Dragon pioneer tractors trundled out across the hillside, disgorging teams of Earthbenders in harness. Within half an hour, the Capital hillside was scored by three rings of threatening trenches and earthworks.

As their counterparts on the ground laid new trenches, the engineers in the air began a complete overhaul of the Capital's existing defenses. Bulk hauler airships hovered pregnantly over the old emplacements, their twin-hulled bulks disgorging heavy metal cubes. These devices re-emplaced the emplacements by virtue of crushing them outright, huge hydraulic pistons punching into the earth and securing the cubes in place. They bloomed like steel flowers, each revealing a bristling array of anti-air projectors, optigraph tubes, and observation posts. Around them, companies of Howling Dragons were gathering into artillery parks as the engineers brought up light field defenses and a network of fire control posts. The hill was alive with a sparkling constellation of optigraph lamps, chatter rippling across the hillside at the speed of light.

One hour after their first arrival at the palace, the Ember Group had fortified the Capital. Five hours had passed since the first mobilization of the Tulpa. If anyone had had the time, need or urge to sit around in some kind of lounge, drinking sake, they would have congratulated the Group on its fastest combat deployment ever. No one did, so no congratulations were in order. There was no time. Everyone had to hurry up and get ready so they could wait. The infantry were snug in their trenches, the tanks in their bunkers. Attuned benders were drugged up and twitching to, their senses twitching idly across the rolling hills that surrounded their new home. Optigraph operators (Op ops, as they generally loathed to be called) completed their final calibrations, trimming and retrimming magnesium wicks and partaking of various amphetamine-based divertissments to speed their reflexes. Artillery commanders reviewed their fire plans, sweating in the heat of massive boilers. All down the line, men and women prepared for a war they'd spent their lives training for but had never thought would actually happen.

At several points along the line, impatient tank commanders ordered all ahead full as they heard the roar of low-flying airships and the two-note shriek. Apologetic messages went down, angry remonstrations up. (Some damn fool in Logistics had loaded Commodore Lorma's _Eye of the Storm_ with nothing but mis-labelled smoke shells. The Commodore, quite sensibly, refused to fly until her airship could actually fight, etcetera, etcetera...) Now the complete strike force moved out, two hundred assault and cavalry tanks backed by a mighty fleet of 24 airships, the _Eye of the Storm _ at their head. After half an hour, their smoke trail had vanished into the rapidly gathering fog. Attuned waterbenders confirmed what Si, in his brand-new palace command post, had suspected; the Lotus were tampering with the weather. The air pressure was plummeting, along with the temperature. A storm was coming.

Thunder rumbled across the capital. Some of it was from the storm, but most came from the distant roar of battle. A blattering, freezing rain began to fall. As waterbenders worked to clear the skies, Attuned worked to keep Si informed on Lorma's progress. Each of the airships held a small assembly of various elemental samples, whose arrangement and temperature could be detected by a distant Attuned. By reorganizing these samples, simple coded messages could be sent both ways. It was through this system that Si learned Lorma had made contact with a massive force of Tulpa (near Yura's now-abandoned listening post, coincidentally). They had engaged. Caused heavy damage. Had lost several airships. Were being flanked by earth Tulpa rising out of the mountains. Had been forced to abandon a significant number of vehicles bogged down and frozen by water Tulpa. Were pulling back in a fighting retreat.

Orders spread down the line. Be ready.

* * *

He ran through the mist, lungs burning, barely feeling the oozing hole in his right side. It hurt to breath. It hurt to move. It hurt to think. The constant pounding in his ears and temples drowned out all thought and sound. He had dropped his sword and hadn't bothered to pick it back up. The others had been running with him, but he had lost them too. Nothing to do but run.

He couldn't see as he stumbled through damp, waist-high grass and shrubs. The mist was choking, unnaturally thick. He could be going in circles for all he knew. Occasionally he felt rather than heard large somethings roar by overhead. Something cold and sticky was dripping down the side of his head. Red droplets spattered on his hand. He kept running. Had he been anywhere else, the pistol bow at his side would have been a comfortable weight. Now it was just slowing him down. Muzzily, he debated about dropping it. Too much effort. His breath caught and rasped in the back of his throat, and he squinted against the stinging, blood-laced sweat dripping off his forehead.

He nearly lost his balance as the wreck of the tank loomed out of the mist. It had been almost cut in half by the massive chunk of rock that kept it pinned to the earth like a dying beetle. He kept running. His foot hit something soft. There was a scream of agony. He stumbled, regained his footing and kept running. He didn't look back.

Suddenly, the mist was clearing. His legs failed him, and he collapsed, his mouth open in a breathless scream at the _thing _that towered over him. A massive, squidlike bulk, its body of saturated wood and carved coral dripping brackish salt water. A single tentacle of coiled seaweed turned towards him, veins of light pulsating across its length. It was as wide as he was tall. Water surged at its tip, and he screwed his eyes shut, awaiting the end. Something dark filled his vision, and he was dimly aware of a faint screaming noise. He opened one eye. A massive mechanical figure knelt in front of him, the huge metal shields on its forearms straining against the punishing force of the water jet that bore down on them. The AP Harness struggled to its feet, a stinging corona of spray blooming around it. There was a flash of smoke and heat from its shoulders, and a cloud of silent missiles buried themselves in the base of the tentacle, severing it from the body of the water Tulpa. He looked around. The AP harness were everywhere, striding fearlessly forwards to fight massive beasts dozens or hundreds of times larger than they were. The air was alive with rockets, explosive arrows, and shells.

A mechanical hand, slick with ice-cold seawater, reached down and pulled him upright. He stared into the blank visage of the harness. There was a surreal, oddly reassuring clarity about its bulk. Painted across its thick chestplate was the legend "20% Harder", and a jagged multi-coloured bolt of lightning. With a hiss, its slitted visor retracted, revealing the glassed-in cockpit within. A series of red lights revealed the face of the pilot, the glare making her eyes shine pink. She spoke, and a rumbling boom emanated from the speaking tubes.

"You're gonna make it. Just hang in there."

* * *

The air above the Capital was filled with spindly, gossamer shapes; thin spheres of rice paper and silk, inflated with flammable lighter-than-air gas and weighted down by small capsules of exotic explosives. Air mines. It was almost impossible to hit an air Tulpa in flight with a steam projector or rocket. Air mines simplified that by slowing the Tulpa down, forcing them to dodge and maneuver. And if the projectiles fired at them happened to miss, and set off the mines... well, there was a good chance an airborne construct would be caught in the blast anyways.

Flight after flight of Tulpa dropped out of the stratosphere, straight into the cloud of mines. The sky lit up with fire as the anti-air projectors opened up, shells streaming near-vertically and bursting around them. Some of the winged forms were clipped and crippled, spiralling away as they burned. Others were more lucky, dodging the blasts or even knocking shells out of the way with bursts of air pressure. And then the mines began to explode. First a few, then more and more as the conflagration triggered the fragile devices. The sky went white, the mist melting away under the wave of heat. When the fire had cleared, only a few undamaged Tulpa were left. The lead one roared, plummeting towards the defensive line as a cone of clouds formed about it. With a _thud_, it broke the sound barrier, then continued to accelerate. It hit a hive shell travelling at a little over twice the speed of sound. The small cloud of bomblets tore away the left side of its head, carving deep gashes along its left forewing and tail flap. It rolled over in midair, slamming out of supersonic as its dive turned into a fall. It had begun to level out when it hit the ground, the impact tearing off its damaged wing and leaving a deep gash in the earth.

Crippled but still fighting, it stumbled to its feet.

_EEEEEEEKRAKOOOM!_

The roar of an Emperor Dragon. The Tulpa froze, its five eyes flickering. Small chunks of melted metal dripped from the corrugated edges of the puncture wound in its core. The round had gone straight through it, leaving a messy splatter of liquid sprayed across the ground behind it. The lights playing over its body brightened. It seemed to fold in on itself.

* * *

The water Tulpa reared back. It looked almost... afraid? The woman in harness wrapped her huge arms around him. He looked up at her in confusion.

"What's-?"

She smiled sadly.

"I'm sorry."

Then they were swallowed by a curtain of radiation and heat.

* * *

Si squinted at the distant pillar of fading light. It was almost too painful to look at directly.

"Only one detonation?"

"Yes, general. It's looking like we've lost a large portion of the First Heavy Infantry, but the storm is clearing. Artillery reports they can begin direct fire again.

"Shit. But better than expected. Whenever they're ready."

* * *

The room was cold and high-ceilinged, weirdly lit by the ambient green-ness. A small clock ticked in one corner. The polished gray marble floor was dominated by a large stone desk, strewn with papers. Most of the wall behind the desk was taken up by a huge white banner, marked only by 9 bloodred characters.

FROM ACTION, POWER

FROM POWER, KNOWLEDGE

FROM KNOWLEDGE, ETERNITY

Brahmos closed the door softly behind them. Sokka, being Sokka, broke the silence first.

'So... anyone else convinced someone's gone and spiked our food with cactus juice?"

Zuko snorted and Aang couldn't hold back a smile. Katara sighed a sigh that said 'brothers...'. A door, cleverly concealed in the far wall of the room opened, and Iroh entered, looking deadly serious.

"Uncle! Just what is going-"

Iroh cut him short, his voice no more than a growl.

"Zuko, I'm sorry, but now is not the time. Listen, I have a lot to tell you in not very much time."

"But-'

'_Zuko._ In a few minutes the Zhujue is going to come in here and tell you that it wants your help tracking down the Elrics. It will tell you that your skills are invaluable in preserving the balance of this world. It wants them under its control. This must not happen. No matter what it says, no matter how much it offers to help, do not trust it. The Elrics must remain alive, and they must not be allowed to fall under the control of the Order of the White Lotus."

He reached into a pocket of his white robes, pulling out a small disk of metal. He pressed it into Aang's hands.

"Avatar, keep this safe. Brahmos will help you hear what's on it. I cannot speak to you directly. Do not let the Zhujue know it exists."

The doors opened behind them, and a hulking figure entered, its face hidden by wide reflective lenses. Its voice was a sibilant rumble.

"Avatar Aang. Firelord Zuko. I am the Zhujue of the Order of the White Lotus. We have much to discuss."

* * *

Aang was the last one out of the _paifang_, the small metal disk hanging heavily in a pocket. Brahmos had slipped him a Pai Sho tile before they'd left, giving him a brief nod. They emerged in a dusty storeroom, packed full of barrels and crates of various dry goods and construction materials. Sokka collapsed on a pile of sandbags.

"Is it over yet?"

Zuko slumped down beside him.

'I hope so, buddy. What a day."

Aang dropped into a comfortable lotus position, feeling his hips pop. He had been on the move all day.

"Was it only this morning we were fighting off some kind of warship? And now we're... well, wherever here is."

Katara sat next to him, leaning against him and sighing tiredly.

"What are we doing, guys? I mean what in the hells is going on here?"

It was one thing for Katara to sound so world-weary, but something entirely different for her to swear. Aang hugged her close, trying very hard not to blush.

"It's... um, well I guess it's a lot to take in in one day."

Zuko got to his feet, stalking around the room.

"You're telling me! I suddenly discover that not only is Uncle still involved with the White Lotus, but it's some kind of spirit-world-monster-controlled... thing! I mean they had an entire _world_! Armies! The power to suck people into the Spirit World whenever they want! And now something's happened with Ed and Al- and don't get me started on whatever the hell's going on with those two! Arrrgh!"

His bark of anger turned to one of pain as his wild (missed) kick at an empty barrel sent his toes mashing into a very full one.

He sat on the barrel, cursing and cradling his foot.

"Uncle lied to me! Lied to us! With that kind of force under his control, he could have stopped the war! Claimed the throne for himself! Prevented the death of the Airbenders! Hell, for all I know he knows where my mother is! But is he gonna tell us? No! That would make things too _easy!"_

His last word was accompanied by a wild, uncontrolled rush of heat and flame. Both Katara and aang were on their feet immediately, dousing the flames. Zuko sat on the scorched barrel, cradling his head in his hands.

"I- I'm sorry. I lost control. I just- ugh."

Sokka sat up.

"Zuko, I thought Ozai told you where your mother was? What did he say, exactly?"

Zuko sighed.

"Nothing concrete; he just smiled and said she was alive, but in a place I'd never be able to reach. Helpful, I know."

"Huh. What's bugging me is all this crazy magic and technology stuff."

Aang smiled.

"That would bug you, Sokka."

"You know it! But seriously. First there was that warship; the weapons it was using were nothing like anything I've seen. Too powerful to be ballistae, but they didn't have the smoke trails of rockets. And the ship itself; I didn't see much of it, but it looked like most of it was under water."

Katara frowned.

"So someone stole your submarine design?"

Sokka shrugged.

"Either that, or invented it separately on their own. The Mechanist and I can't be the only inventive geniuses in the world, now can we. And another thing-"

"Yes, oh mighty inventive genius?"

"Sis, c'mon... Anyways. The spirit world. Aang, you said it was mostly forest, right? And that your bending didn't work there."

Aang nodded.

"Yes, but then again I only ever saw a tiny portion of the Spirit World. Aside from going after," he shivered, "Ko... But you're right. The stuff we saw there. The Rakshasa... it seemed kind of out of place from what I've been taught about the Spirit World. I know it's supposed to be a very fluid and, well... spiritual realm."

"Spiritual? Did those gigantic stone buildings look spiritual to you? Or the huge armies? Or the creepy slogans everywhere? Or the giant teleporting gateway-thingies?"

Aang leaned forwards, intertwining his fingers.

"There's a very old Airbender saying. It goes something like 'to the man on the street, the greatest Bending is the same as the greatest of machinery'. The original wording's much more witty, but It's completely slipped my mind."

"And what did the Airbenders know about technology? No offence, but you guys weren't exactly big on the clanky-clanky pistony-geary... stuff."

Zuko clapped sarcastically.

"Genius inventor, sure. But master of eloquence? Naaaaah."

Aang made a placating gesture.

"C'mon. And yes, Sokka, the Airbenders weren't nearly as advanced as the Fire Nation. But look at our gliders. Or the doors in the Southern Air Temple."

"Okay, point taken."

Katara stood, placing a hand on Aang's shoulder.

"Aang, what was that thing Iroh gave you?"

"Oh! Right!"

Reaching into a pocket, he pulled out the heavy little disc and the Pai Sho tile. The disc was about plam-sized, made of a metal that looked like it might be lead. There was a small circular indent in one side of the disc. Sokka grabbed it from his hands, peering curiously at it, then bit it sharply.

"Okay. Ptoo. Not lead. Much harder."

"Was that really necessary, Sokka?"

The Pai Sho tile was (not surprisingly) a Lotus tile. Sokka handed Aang back the disc then motioned encouragingly at him.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"Put the tile in the little hole thing!"

"You think that'd do it?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

Aang shrugged, and obligingly inserted the tile into the indentation, put the disc on the floor, and stepped back quickly as it began to emit a soft humming sound. The disc opened like a metal flower, sending up a rapidly-unfolding broadleaf plant unlike anything he had ever seen. A single wide leaf sprouted upwards, while a set of smaller leaves curled around a bundle of gourds dangling at the plant's base. The plant shuddered to a halt, and skeins of colour began to work across its leaves. Then an image of Iroh appeared on its surface, and began to speak. The sound was low and wavering, emanating from the vibrating gourds. Iroh's face looked distorted and unfocussed, but the tension and stress in his face was obvious.

"Avatar Aang. If you recieve this, it means you've returned from the Spirit world, and presumably that the Ember Group have begun open military operations. You must forgive me for having decieved you for so long, but there are powers at work here unlike anything you or any Avatar have ever been forced to deal with. I'll try to make this explanation as brief as possible, but summing up several hundred years of political and military conflict is difficult. Please, bear with me.

A very, very long time ago, there lived a people of benders with the ability to control the chi that flows through all nature. They bent energy, the force that underlies all the elements. Theirs was a mighty force for good, acting behind to scenes to assist generation after generation of Avatar. But their numbers were never large to begin with, and as time passed and the Lion-Turtles began to die off, so too did the Energybenders. And so they undertook a great leap forwards. They energybent themselves, becoming entities of pure spirit. And as they took their first steps in the Spirit World, they named themselves the Rakshasa, eternal guardians of the Avatar's spiritual essence. Most of the time, they collectively went by their old human name, the Order of the White Lotus. It all sounds quite cheesy and overwrought, but that was the style at the time. Some things don't age well. Like certain teas-"

He stopped, pinching the bridge of his nose and grinning sadly.

"I'm sorry, I haven't slept in three days and the _paifang_ lag is killing me. Anyways. The original generation of 'Shasa lived for thousands of years, recruiting new generations of humans in our world to assist each Avatar as they came and went. Their power grew to such an extent that they could even make new beings; a second generation of 'Shasa formed of pure soul-stuff, instilled with the will of their progenitors. And the new generation prospered as their creators slowly began to fade away, and memory of their true greatness was lost. Today, the 'Shasa are shadows of their predecessors, who have forgotten how to rebuild the mechanisms that brought them life. They can only imitate and copy, not create. They had begun to lose touch. Which brings us to about one hundred and twenty years ago. Zuko, your grandfather Sozin had, in his uncontrolled desire for progress, created an independent group; their aims were simply the preservation of the Fire Nation. They were given a near-unlimited materials budget, access to the greatest minds of the Fire Nation, and the greatest minds they could kidnap and suborn from the other nations. They had complete freedom, so long as they kept what Sozin vaguely referred to as 'the spark' alive. Of course, it wasn't long before the group of geniuses, inventors and theorists that was the Ember Group realized the obvious- that Sozin was at best deeply misguided- and joined the White Lotus wholeheartedly. In doing so, they gave the human arm of the Lotus an incredible power base; technology beyond its time, a vast network of intermediaries, consultants and available talent, drawing from each of the Four Nations and synthesizing them into something more. The Ember Group had become what the humans of the White Lotus had always wanted to be; a nation of its own, with influence over the other four.

And then the Hundred-Year War happened. And it became apparent to the Ember Group that the 'Shasa had gone completely off the deep end. They believed the best way to keep the balance was either all-out warfare or constant, tense peace. And then Sozin altered the balance by wiping out one of the four nations. And the Shasa did nothing. Three nations were easier to control. As they rescued the survivors of the genocidal campaign, the leadership of the Ember Group knew that they needed something different. A third option, other than war or the threat of war. So they chose war, but not in the way the Shasa thought of it. They would rise up; a fifth power, and unite the other four through high technology, economic dominance, and liberal application of scientific genius. The world was at war; each nation assembled its greatest minds and opponents, only to have them snatched by the Ember Group, still acting under the guise and vague approval of the White Lotus."

He paused again, and the image shook, as if he were adjusting whatever was recording his words. When the shaking stopped, his face was suddenly more clear, and the lines of exhaustion were visible in his face.

"Ava- you know what, forget it. Aang. Zuko. Katara. Toph. Mai. Suki. Ty Lee. Sokka. Whoever is-"

"Why was I la-"

"Sokka! Shut up!"

"-listening to this. I know this is a great deal to take in, but this world is in danger. If you have recieved this message, it means you can save it. Bear with me. After twenty-five years of war, the Ember Group acted. In the space of one fateful day- the Purge- they wiped their membership of all White Lotus loyalists, either through imprisonment, exile, or in the worst cases, brainwashing. The Dai Li have nothing on these people, let me tell you. The Group also used a variety of methods to weaken, but not break the bonds between this world and the next, denying the Lotus the ability to send their engines of war into combat. And they had a powerful ally; it calls itself-"

The view flickered.

"Damn. I'm low on time. I'm going to have to hurry this. If you can find any one of the other Old Masters, except Bumi, they can fill you in. Do not talk to Bumi. As the schism dragged on, the Ember Group became fatigued, horrified at the brutal tactics its leadership had been willing to use. Meanwhile, the Spirit world was destabilizing with no Avatar alive to keep it in balance, and the Shasa lacked the strength to maintain the balance and wage a full war. So peace broke out. And overall, the Ember Group won. They've been running things behind the scenes for years now, but choosing to save their strength. That's why the human White Lotus is still in existence. But now, Aang. You're back. And the White Lotus and Ember Group are moving. The few humans in the Lotus- old men, but you knew that- are starting to have our doubts. I- I think..."

He sighed.

"We're on the wrong side. The 'Shasa no longer have even the slightest interest in humanity. And they're working on something. Bumi calls it the Omashu project, when he's sane enough to speak coherently. I fear he's finally snapped, and built something terrible. It's a weapon- what he calls a chistone bomb, made out of some kind of explosive metal. I don't know how it works, but the 'Shasa seem to believe they can use it, along with the powers of these... these 'Alchemists', whoever they are, to completely sever the bonds between the physical and spirit worlds. Either it'll kill every human being alive and the Rakshasa will rule over a graveyard, or it will simply end both worlds. Which is why I am asking, no- begging you. Find the Elrics. Get them to the Ember Group. Fight the White Lotus. Don't let Bumi set off his bomb."

He turned away, taking a deep swig from a previously-invisible bottle. As the image faded away, he could faintly be heard to mutter something...

"Ursa was right all along."

* * *

"Is the metal sample in place?"

"Yes, King Bumi."

"Good. Test Downshot Cradle will now commence. Activate."

Across the mountain valley, the chistone bomb detonated. The radioactive shockwave washed over the mangled remains of the _Wind Chariot_, already altered by alchemical distortion. And something deeply _wrong _happened. The air- no, it was more fundamental than that- _everything _tore like paper for the briefest of seconds, and harsh colourless nothing shone through, scorching all who saw it with its non-existence. Bumi laughed hoarsely, reaching into a small _paifang, _retrieveing a scroll and reading what was written upon it. He turned to the Waterbender and the Firebender, laughing uproariously as blood dripped from his eyes, mouth and ears.

"Now," he spat, "now we are all sons of bitches."

And in their horror they laughed with him.

-~0X0~-

I was seriously tempted to reuse an idea from _The Assassin_ and call this chapter 'In Which Exposition Happens', but then I realized that that would be exceedingly stupid. So here we are.

Did I really last post on Halloween? Jaysus. Well, consider this an early Christmas present. I hope to have chapter 11 done by mid-January, but that is by no means a solid... thing. You know what I mean. This chapter marks the last of the material i partially pre-wrote over the summer, and the start of material I pre-wrote during morning lectures on Martin Luther and Presocratic philosophy and the like. I have more .txt files filled with walls of text than you can believe, man!

Anyways, this took a while because work continues apace on _Atlantropa_, my originally-planned-for-NaNoWriMo-novel which has now just become my novel. If you like dieselpunk and alternate-history 1950s shenanigans, you'll love it! You can find it at Fictionpress dot com forward slash tilde barondepencier.

Thanks as always to you wonderful internet people for reading and reviewing, and for all the wonderful university people for being wonderful and okay and stuff.

Happy non-denominational midwinter celebration!


	14. XI- The Gaoling Connection

Oi watched the airship disappear over the horizon, then dropped back into the hull of the Tundra Dragon. The little tank destroyer was eating up kilometer after kilometer of grassland, its massively oversized engine chugging away with a comfortable roar. He dropped back inside, loosely closing the engine hatch. The inside of the vehicle was dim, illuminated by strips of bioluminescent rock crystal.

"Well, we're out of optigraph range. Until tonight at least. Our command and control airship is the _Wary Traveller_, right?"

Nutarniq grunted an affirmative, his eyes still on the controls. Sangmu was leaning out the top hatch, one hand held ready on the projector safety. She'd been standing like that for half an hour now, refusing to be dissuaded. Oi glanced across the engine dials, tweaking a few valves to his satisfaction. Then he shuffled back into his bucket seat, leaning against a boiler insulation panel which any non-Firebender would have found near-scorchingly hot. He closed his eyes, sighing. Hurry up and wait. The briefing back at the Owl's Nest had been... well, brief, and then they'd been hustled onto an armoured carrier airship and dropped in the middle of nowhere. The Elrics were headed south, looking to catch the road west to Gaoling. Had the White Lotus not been mobilizing in full force, it would have been a simple enough matter to recover them by air. However, growing levels of Tulpa activation across the Earth Kingdom meant that an air mission was out of the question. A lone tank, however...

Sangmu popped back inside, sealing her hatch.

"All right. Air's clear. Keep us on course, Nut. With any luck we can catch them by sundown."

He sighed. It was going to be a long day.

* * *

Al sighed. It had been a long day. Bosco seemed to agree with him. The bear slumped down exhaustedly at the well in the centre of the abandoned village they'd found. Ed harrumphed, slinging the rifle down from his shoulder. He and Al were carrying two Elric Mk. 1's apiece, the four least-damaged weapons they'd salvaged from the wreck. Al didn't find the weight of the weapons at all comfortable.

"I don't like the looks of this place. We should keep moving.", Ed said, glancing about the dusty square.

Al had to agree with him. The village looked long-abandoned, but there were worrying scorch marks and places where the earth had been torn and broken by some unknown force. Still...

"Brother, we've been walking for more than ten hours now. It's getting dark. We need a place to stop and there's water here."

The Lancer, giving his exhausted bear a sympathetic pat, joined the animal on the ground.

"Agreed, my friend. It's been a long trek and we've covered admirable distance, but we are not made of steel. Everyone has a limit, even the Bear Lancer."

"Funny you should mention that..."

Ed sat down, making a feeble attempt to disguise a wince. It was obvious that his automail was paining him. It wasn't designed for marathon hikes. Then, seemingly realizing something, he got to his feet again.

"But we can't sit still! We need fire, water... Al, grab some firewood. Lancer, are there any dangerous wild animals in these parts?"

The Lancer appeared to stare at him for a few seconds, then laughed, tiredly.

"Wild animals? Really, my dear fellow? Had you not realized that we're travelling with a bear, the most noble and ferocious of nature's children? With Bosco and I around, you have nothing to fear!"

The bear rumbled in assent, then something seemed to give it pause. Lifting its blunt snout, it sniffed, then gave a low, warning grunt. The Lancer was on his feet in an instant.

"Someone or something is coming. Be ready."

Al heard it too; a creaking, grinding rumble, which he knew all too well. Surprisingly, there was an equivalent for the Amestrian word _panzer_ in Common.

"Taaaaaank!"

The vehicle sideswiped one of the less sturdy-looking buildings, sending it crumbling. It scraped to a halt a ways from their camp, and Al noticed with some discomfort that the large gun (but they didn't have guns here, did they?) mounted on its prow seemed to be tracking them. A hatch popped open on its roof and a figure protruded, their outline blurred by the clouds of smoke and steam that were rising off the machine.

"Edwaad and, um, Aluphonz Eluric?"

* * *

"Zhongwei, the Scrying Directorate has found them. Coordinates are being shunted now."

A row of plant-displays flashed green.

"What should we do, sir?"

The Zhongwei narrowed his eyes, frowning. Logic would dictate dropping a Tulpa on the Elrics, snatching them up and carrying them back to the Spirit World. That would require time, however. And leaving the Avatar and his compatriots out of the loop. The humans wouldn't be pleased about that, he knew. Then again, there wasn't much that pleased them. It was a wonder the Zhujue still kept them around. Then the communications officer gasped.

"Report!"

The central paifang shimmered, displaying the dim image of a campfire with several small figures clustered about it. One side of the screen was obscured by a blot of shimmering gray, like a mercury spill.

"Is that what I think it is?"

"Heavy metal interference sir, with prominent heat and water vapor emissions. It's-"

"The Ember Group."

The great weakness of the paifangs and all the technologies associated with them was heavy minerals: the interference caused by, say, a naturally occurring vein of granite or cobalt made paifang transit or Scrying well-nigh impossible. Despite its low density, sky iron was among the worst. It didn't just interfere with paifang signals, it actively degraded them. It was their remarkable ability to acquire massive quantities of the supposedly-rare metal that had prevented the Ember Group from being wiped out for all these years. They were simply impossible to spy upon, or even locate for that matter. You might as well try to dig up every single mineral deposit on the planet.

"What are your orders, sir? Sir?"

He grunted. His orders were to capture the Elrics. Alive, by any means.

"Slam-drop an air Tulpa. Have them eliminate any Ember Group presence, take the Elrics into custody and return as quickly as they can without risking the lives of their payload."

"But, sir-!"

"Do it."

It was relatively easy to transport a Tulpa via paifang, if you had the energy. When powered down, they were no more than insert hunks of metal, stone or ice. What that meant, however, was that you had to undergo the irritatingly complicated process of powering down a Tulpa to prep for transit, then powering it back up again when it arrived. Hence why all of the Tulpa Hubs and Cradles had their own human personnel: it was much simpler to just keep an activated but dormant Tulpa on-site with the associated Locii than to send one in every time a hub or Cradle. Slam-dropping was sending in a Tulpa still activated, with a pilot inside. It was reasonably doable, but tended to make the Tulpa extremely unstable. And occasionally explosive.

"We have the nearest available coordinates. Slam-dropping."

The screen filled with light.

* * *

Five metric tons of leather, balsam wood and anger dropped out of the air above the tank, screeching furiously. There was a massive concussive burst of sound as the air around it whirled in disconcerting ways. It didn't needed to be said, but the Lancer said it anyways.

"RUN!"

* * *

They reacted with commendable speed. Sangmu half-dropped half-fell into her seat, wrenching the hatch shut behind her. Nut slammed the vehicle into reverse. Oi kicked the boiler air feed to full overpower, feeling the turbines rev faster and faster as the engine traded power for fuel efficiency. At this rate, it could burn through its main coal-dust fuel reserve in two hours. Moving quickly, he slotted a plate-cleaving shell into the breech, slamming it shut.

"Loaded!"

The steam projector dinged. Sangmu fired at point-blank into the underbelly of the disorientated Tulpa. It reeled, firing a wild blast of air pressure that knocked the tank back. The gyroscopes built into its lower track housing screamed into action, keeping the vehicle from turning over.

"Load hive!"

Oi wrenched the yellow-banded shell out of the floor rack, and was on the verge of slotting it into the breech when he felt his ears pop.

"Overp-!"

He collapsed to the ground, convulsing, as agony tore through his body. Tundra Dragons had bolted hulls and prominent air intakes for their large engines: the crew compartment was by no means air-tight like on the larger Ember Group vehicles. The Tulpa was going to crush them to death, squeezing the air out of their lungs. He felt blood trickling from his nose and ears. Nutarniq was slumped over in the front seat, clutching his head and keening in agony. The pressure on his eardrums was unbearable. Sangmu leaned over him, apparently unaffected. When she spoke, her voice was faint.

"If I depressurize you now, you'll die. Decompression sickness. Take it like a man."

She shoved the hive shell into the breech one-handed, glanced down the sighting periscope, and pulled the trigger. Oi felt a double shockwave run through him as his vision dimmed. Blearily, he thought to himself: short-range hive shell. Hits the target, penetrates, then the sub-munitions ex...plode... Insiiiiiiiide.

He passed out in a smallish puddle of his own blood.

* * *

"So, where exactly are we?"

Sokka wrenched open a badly-rusted shutter, throwing up a cloud of dust.

"Let's see haaaAAAAAAAAAH!"

He threw himself backwards as a massive, shaggy head tried to push through the tiny window.

"Appa!"

Aang was on his feet in an instant, scratching the obviously-worried bison's forehead. The beast lowed, slumping down against the side of the building with enough force to send dust and plaster drifting from the rafters. Sokka got to his feet, an expression of deeply wounded dignity on his face. Zuko stifled a snort.

"Very graceful."

Sokka glared at him, and harrumphed.

"Well, we know Appa's here. But where is _here_? The big hairball can't exactly answer my-"

"Gaoling."

"What?"

Katara sighed, leaning against the open doorframe. Her hair caught the light in a way that made Aang's eyes lose focus.

"There's a door, Sokka."

They trooped out into the bright sunlight, gazing down the length of the Ling Valley. The city hadn't changed much since the end of the war- it had mostly escaped the vast political upheavals of Bumi's takeover and the Fire Nation demobilization. They were standing outside a small collection of run-down warehouses on the edge of the valley. A well-trod dirt path led down the hill into town, winding its way past numerous rice paddies, all deserted. The air was full of the hum of cicadas, and an unusual low rumble. Aang couldn't place it. It wasn't a sound so much as a gut feeling.

"Where is everyone?"

"Maybe they heard the Fire Lord and the Avatar were coming and decided to throw a surprise party?", Sokka snarked absently.

This time, Zuko couldn't hold back his snort. Then he buried his head in his hands, almost veering into a rice patch as he did so.

"Oh spirits. Now I _know_ I'm sleep-deprived. That's the only way I could ever find that funny."

Before Aang knew it, Katara had slipped her arm through his. They walked side-by-side in companionable (if awkward) silence as the Fire Lord and the Water Tribesman continued to bicker. Katara sighed.

"They're taking it remarkably well."

Aang glanced at her. There was a peculiar expression of- well, he wanted to say steely determination, but that wasn't it- on her face.

"How so?"

She rolled her eyes, smiling.

"Aang, one of the greatest men on the planet just told us that the organization that helped you save the world is actually some kind of ancient supernatural conspiracy. And another thing- the airship got snatched up early in the afternoon. And we spent some time in the Spirit World. So why is it still early afternoon here? We can't have moved east or west by much."

Aang frowned. She had a point. An excellent point.

"I- I guess it doesn't feel- well, real."

"Real? They tried to destroy our airship! We've already gone over what they tried to do to Zuko! We saw what the White Lotus has built in the Spirit World! It was creepy and frightening, and you know it!"

She stopped, and grabbed him by the shoulders, looking him straight in the eyes.

"Aang, you're the Avatar. Now, I don't know what it looks like to you, but I think you need to bring balance to the world. This- this passivity isn't like you. You always try. You never give up hope. That's why I love you. This is your world to protect. Now get out there and protect it."

He stared at her for a second, then nodded. She was right. (And she loved him!)

"You're right, Katara. I'm honour-bound as the Avatar to get to the bottom of this."

He pulled away from her.

"Sokka! Zuko! We need a plan!"

They halted under a gnarled cherry tree. Appa settled himself contentedly in the sun, falling asleep almost instantly.

"Listen up, gang. I've been talking with Katara and we've agreed that we've been going into this all wrong. It's not enough to just go with the flow and let everyone push us around. We've saved the world once, and we'll do it again. But we need to know what to do."

Zuko smiled.

"And here I was thinking you'd gotten soft, Aang. What're you thinking."

Sokka cleared his throat loudly.

"I'm the plan guy, here. C'mon. Give me a chance."

"I yield the floor, then."

Sokka stood, and began to pace.

"The way I see it, we've got two major goals here. Find the Elric brothers, whoever or whatever they are, and get them to the Ember Group, whoever or whatever they are. Next, find and stop Bumi from doing whoever of whatever he's doing."

Katara's eyes widened. She glanced at Aang. He knew that look. It said 'wait for it...'

Sokka was about to continue, but then he stopped. Ah. He got it.

"And by that I mean whatever he's doing. Not whoever. Not that Bumi isn't allowed to, um do whoever- far be it for me to stop him, um, doing... activities, but the thing is he is sort of old and-"

He stopped, noticing that everyone was laughing at him. He made a valiant effort to look wounded and dignified, but failed. Soon they were all laughing uproariously. Appa covered his ears and rolled over. Eventually the laughing trailed away. Sokka wiped a tear from his eyes and sat up from where he'd collapsed.

"Wow. I think we all needed that. It's been one of those days, you know? Now! To business."

He drew one of the Kiyoshi fans he'd had stuck in his belt since they'd left the Wind Chariot, and began doodling in the sand.

"So. The Elrics are somewhere in the Earth kingdom. Normally I'd say head to Ba Sing Se or Omashu, because we know people there, but," he scratched a crude, somewhat bug-eyed face into the soil, then wiped it away, "Bumi's not an option. We need to find someone else who has their ear to the ground. Which means Toph. Although I can't say I know where she is."

Aang shrugged, clearing his throat.

"I only know as much as you do. She said she was going back to Gaoling to sort things out, but..."

Zuko leaned forwards.

"I think there's another option. I mean, we might as well start looking for her here, but I can think of a place where we might get the information we need. Stuff that even the White Lotus doesn't have."

Katara put a hand on his shoulder, shaking her head.

"Zuko, you can't be serious."

"The Library."

Aang added to the chorus of protests coming from Sokka and Katara.

"Zuko, I'm sorry, but you weren't there. Wan Shi Tong is crazy at best, and totally murderous at worst. Plus he _sunk_ the place! We'd never find it again."

Zuko shrugged, leaning back.

"Well, it was worth a shot. So, we find Toph, or at least find where she's gone, then go out and, what- search the entire Earth Kingdom for two people?"

Sokka waggled a finger.

"Two people with yellow hair, strange not-Bending powers, and a weird way of talking. Also a machine leg. It can't be that hard to find."

Zuko ran a hand through his hair, straightening up.

"Sokka, do you have any idea what the end of the war did to the Earth Kingdom? I've read the reports. There are refugees everywhere. They're calling it the greatest human migration in history. Whole territories have been destroyed, entire cities raised. I didn't get much from the Elrics, but I know that they have a long history of being hunted. If they think that someone's after them- especially people as dedicated and militant as the Ember Group seems to be, they will disappear. They're foreign, but they're not stupid. If they want to vanish off the face of the map, they can. I mean look at Kuei. From the last diplomatic packets I read, an entire wing of Earth Army Intelligence has been trying and failing to find him for a year now!" He paused for a second. "Although... I suppose he could be dead."

There was an uncomfortable silence. Katara broke it, speaking slowly.

"I just realized something... we met with the Zhujue, right?"

They all nodded.

"What did he- it tell us?"

"To find the Elrics,' Aang said, "And to bring them back to the White Lotus for safekeeping."

There was something cold in her eyes; it was a light he had only ever seen when Katara's life was on the line. Or when she was going after the people who killed her mother.

"Yes, but what did it actually tell us? Can any of you remember what it said? How long were we in that briefing? And Sokka- when was the last time you shaved?"

Her brother patted his face, his eyes widening. Aang noticed it too- he had stubble. Sokka never let himself get stubbly. They teased him about it. He'd sometimes shave twice a day if he felt it necessary. He claimed that Suki didn't like to be poked when they-

Katara turned to Aang.

"We're missing time. I don't know how or why, but it explains why it's still afternoon here! We were in the spirit world for at least a day!"

Aang stood.

"Iroh was right. We need to get a move on. Let's get into town and figure out what in the hells is going on here."

Sokka cocked an ear.

"Do you hear... cheering?"

* * *

"Shit."

Oi sat up. Something drove a thick iron needle through both of his ears. He lay back down again.

"Ssssssshhhhheeeeaaaaaaaargh."

He blinked. Suddenly Sangmu was leaning over him, smirking affectionately as only she could.

"Good. You're awake. Any you can hear me. So your eardrums aren't punctured."

Oi sat up, more slowly this time. He was stretched out in the back of the tank, leaning comfortably against the boiler hatch. By sheer force of habit, he checked the gauges. Running smoothly, if a little cold. He was quite impressed.

"...hey. Ow."

Nutarniq gave him a glum wave from the front seat. The normally morose Water Tribesman looked like a puppy that had been kicked. His eyes were bloodshot, and his face was covered with lines of crusty red. He wore a pair of earmuffs clamped over gauze pads on each ear.

"You look like shit, Nut.", he said, doing his best to smile. It hurt to swallow. The brown-skinned driver smiled weakly back.

"You'll never guess what I feel like, Oi."

"Shit?"

"Bingo. Urgh.", he moaned, slumping back in his seat. Sangmu clambered into the commander's seat, cracking the hatch.

"We'll hit Gaoling midafternoon. I'm guessing that the Elrics and the guy with the bear will take the shortcut through Stonewall Valley, so they should arrive roughly when we do. Road's been clear."

Oi gasped. Road? Oh, no, she hadn't...

There was a crunch, and the tank rocked slightly. Oi pushed his head out the engineer's hatch, blinking in the sudden darkness. It looked to be just before dawn. Then his eyes adjusted to the glare of the tail lights and he stared in horror at the ruins of the cart they'd just run over. The voice of its elderly owner was a faintly receding wail.

"M-my cabbages!"

He dropped back inside the tank, mind boggled.

"You took. The road."

She didn't even glance back at him, but did kick Nutarniq gently in the shoulder.

"Yep. Nut, tell me next time we're about to hit something? I keep needing to reset the projector sights."

"You took. The _road._"

She shrugged.

"It was that or try to drive this thing overland by myself for four hours. It wasn't that hard. Road's pretty straight. I just matched the gyro compasses up with the maps, set them to automatic, and corrected for drift every few minutes. Also, turns out that the engine can run waaaaaay more efficiently than you let it. Er, if you're constantly injecting nearly-pure oxygen into it, that is."

Suddenly, the pain in his head was gone, replaced with utter flabbergastedness.

"What about a covert mission do you not understand? You're taking an Ember Group vehicle with undisguised markings down the middle of a public highway in the southern Earth Kingdom? Are you stupid?"

She still didn't look back.

"Oi, don't be dense. First. If you'd take the time to think, you'd know the Tundra Dragon is so named because its profile is similar to the Tundra-series siege 'tanks'," the word dripping with sarcasm, "used by the Fire Nation, and now the Earth Kingdom. Second. We are in the middle of a public highway. It's also very early in the morning, it's not a market day, and I've had confirmation from the _Traveller _that the way is clear. They were within optigraph range for five minutes about three hours ago."

Oi blinked.

"Shit. You're making an incredibly irritating amount of sense again. You bitch."

"That's _captain_ bitch to you, Sergeant Butt-pirate."

"Oh for the love of Tui and La, will you give it a rest? I can barely hear you, but all you're doing is making my head hurt more.", Nutarniqu groaned.

Oi didn't need to see Sangmu's face to know she was pouting facetiously.

"Awwww, bay-bee. Oh!"

She perked up.

"Y'know that guy with the bear?"

"What guy with what bear?", he said, deeply bewildered, "Not all of us can see out the main hatch, you know."

"The Elrics have run into the Lancer."

"Seriously? Wow, Kuei's really travelling far and wide this time. I doubt it'll complicate things. He knows we know who he is. Does he?"

Nutarniq slammed the brakes for a half-second, jostling them about.

"Guys. It's too early in the morning for witty banter. Ugh, I almost miss you being severely injured. So much quieter."

* * *

As the sun rose, they collapsed in a copse of trees a ways from the narrow trail. This time, no one tried to light a fire or stand guard. The Lancer and the bear curled up with each other, while Ed and Al both took a bush. Al was asleep before his head had hit the ground. He was awoken by the rising sun shining in his eyes. The Lancer and his brother were already awake, conferring quietly a ways away. He stumbled to his feet, legs and back aching. The night had been a blur- a frantic jog/run/hike westwards, fleeing the distant rumble of explosions and the roar of engine noise. There'd been several hours where they clambered over and around a huge field of boulders. Thankfully, the tank hadn't followed them far, and they hadn't seen any more of the- the thing it had called down on them. They could all agree, though: someone or something was after them.

"Al! Good, you're awake. We've been making plans."

He sat down beside them, leaning carefully up against the still-dozing Bosco.

"Awake? Barely, brother. Sometimes I miss not having to sleep. What's the plan?"

The Lancer who, he noted, was still wearing his full mask, pulled out a scroll and unrolled it, revealing the map within. It took him a second, but Al managed to decipher the odd vertical script.

"We're at least a day's fast march from Gaoling, the nearest major city. If we can get there, I have... friends who can get you to safety. I don't know who is after you, but they obviously mean business. That wasn't an Earth Kingdom tank, of that I'm certain."

"How exactly will getting to a big city help us?"

"Refugees. If you can join a refugee convoy, you can make it to Ba Sing Se. And in the Impenetrable City, no one will ever find you. You'll be as safe as can be. Getting you the right passes will be difficult, but I can pull some strings. Maybe even get you a place in the Middle Ring. Extremely cushy, for refugees."

"And how exactly can you pull these strings?"

The Lancer laughed, an act which caused his hat to slide off the top of his head. He hastily clamped it back on.

"A vigilante with secrets to hide never reveals his dark past! Now, on to Gaoling!"

* * *

The whispering crowd sat in darkness. Any minute now. On Aang's left side, Sokka was bouncing up and down in his seat, hands clamped over his mouth. Occasionally, he let out high-pitched squeals of delight. Katara was sitting bolt upright on his other side. She was probably as tense as Aang felt. Zuko was one seat down, leaning back and evidently enjoying himself immensely.

"So when's it going to-"

He was interrupted by a thunderous drum roll, an explosive flash of light, and a roaring voice, amplified by the clever carving of the bowl-like arena.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN. WELCOME! WELCOME TO BENDING... RRRRRRRUUUUMMMMBLE!"

The triangular arena was awash with light. In the first corner, a waterbender, surrounded by a dazzling cloud of ice. Next, a firebender, dancing in a shimmering heat haze. Finally, an earthbender, orbitted by fluorescent crystals. The crowd roared.

"THE BEI FONG METALBENDING ACADEMY IS PROUD TO PRESENT A HISTORICAL EVENT THAT WILL BLOW YOUR MIND. THREE BENDING STYLES. ONE RING. THE WORLD'S GREATEST COMBATTANTS, FIGHTING FOR YOUR ENTERTAINMENT!"

With a thunderous explosion, the lights dimmed. The announcer's voice grew tense and hoarse. Aang found himself straining forwards in his seat.

"AND NOW. YOUR HOST..."

The lights swivelled to one end of the arena, where an immense dias of stone was grinding out of the earth. A small figure stood atop it, its metal-shod arms pointing triumphantly skywards.

"A FIGHTER WHO NEEDS NO INTRODUCTION. I GIVE YOU, AT FOUR FOOT ONE, NINETY POUNDS, THE CURRENT EARTH RUMBLE CHAMPION AND OUR GENEROUS BENEFACTOR..."

The people in the arena were shouting hard enough to make the earth shake. Aang noted absent-mindedly that he, Sokka, Katara and even Zuko were on their feet, screaming their lungs out.

"TOPH 'THE IRON BANDIT' BEI FONG!"

The crowd exploded.

* * *

"WHO THE HELL IS THIS GUY? HE'S TINY!"

"WHAT?"

"HE'S TINY!"

"SHE'S THIRTEEN!"

"OH."

Al knew, in a detached sort of way, what an Amestrian pro-_boxing_ match was like. He knew there was often a lot of spectacle involved. A lot of audience participation. This, he guessed, was quite similar. He still wasn't sure why he was on his feet, clapping frantically and screaming in Amestrian. He winced as the Lancer bellowed in his brother's ear. Again.

"ED, TOPH BEI FONG IS MY CONTACT. SHE'LL GET YOU TO SAFETY."

"WHAT."

To be honest, Al wasn't even surprised any more.

* * *

"Girls, how would you like to invade the Fire Nation again? For old time's sake?"

"If it were anyone but you asking, I'd say no way. Not my business. Count me in."

"Would I _ever_! Any chance to show off!"

"Us versus an army. Can't say I like their odds."

-~0X0~-

And with that, HtE passes the 100-page-of-size-12-Times-New-Roman mark. Yay!

Massive thanks to everyone who read, reviewed, favourited and subscribed, as well as the indefatigable Leneia for being immensely clever. I'm trying to increase the dialogue and decrease the TENK TONK IMMA TANK. So yeah. With midterms done, I may be able to get the next chapter done earlier than a month behind schedule! No guarantees!

Expect a new Document up within a few days. Ciao!


	15. Document: A Brief History of the Forges

Document: excerpt from _Breaking the Walls_ by Meng Qui. This book is the sixth volume of her _Complete History of the Ember Group_, published in three editions between 241 and 253 ASC. Footnotes and annotations have been removed. For the full text, see [DOCUMENT REFERENCE EXPUNGED]

[...] The succession of General Ahnah as leader of the Group in the last years of the Schism led to a significant paradigm shift in Group politics and organization. General Oviyan, carrying over the policies of the original Fire Nation group, had focused on centralization and chain-of-command. By concentrating industry, habitation and agriculture in the Lagoon and the Owl's Nest, he believed that further shattering of the disparate elements of the Group could be avoided. Ahnah's reforms completely reversed this policy. A Souther Water tribeswoman by birth, Ahnah had served in several of the infamous SWT _Ijiraq _divisions, flying columns of waterbenders and kayakers specializing in mobile, nonlinear warfare. Her policies were those of the guerilla; distributed, adaptable warfare. In 72 BSC, with the support of the newly elected Ember Council, she began the Forge Initiative to rebuild the Group's combat capabilities from the ground up.

The concept of the Forge, similar to Ahnah's ideas on war by stealth, was based on concepts liberally borrowed from the _modus operandii_ of the _Ijiraq_. That force used a widespread system of small armouries to avoid Fire Nation attack and supply line disruption. Each armoury was nearly identical in capacity to every other armoury, and could be easily concealed by virtue of being buried in ice. As _ijiraq_ forces moved, they would activate new armouries and shut down old ones, ensuring a flexible but consistent supply of armaments. The Forge Initiative was simply this on a much larger scale. Manufacturing facilities would be removed from the Lagoon and the Nest, and spread out across various smaller bodies. Each Forge had capacities identical to all the others, and information sharing through the newly-perfected optigraph system meant that the loss of one Forge was only a minor blow to the capacities of the Group as a whole. Furthermore, and increasingly controversially, the Forges would operate as per the model of the Overlord Division, which would be restructured into the Overlord Forge. The lack of any ethical oversight or strict regulation in the Forges would eventually be dealt with in the Scientific Rights Decree of 10 BSC. The loss of centralized production caused a massive shift in the functioning of the cargo arms of the Ember Navy and Air Force. Initially, many air crews complained at the vastly increased flight times required to transport material to and from the forges. However, the vast decrease in loss of noncombatant personnel transporting materiel to the front was welcomed. The growing use of optigraphic communications systems served to ease the strain on a system which was undergoing a fundamental paradigm shift.

Though the original intent had been for homogeneity among the Forges, the distributed system evolved into a sort of pseudo-specialization. While each maintained the information and basic facilities of all the others, the various forges began to move towards vastly increased focus on one specific skill-set. Though many, including Ahnah, protested this change and sought to legislate the forges back towards equilibrium, the end of the Schism in an apparent Ember group victory only further the growth of specialization and customization. The need for new communications and civilian technologies, as well as the scaling-down of war production, led to the growth of new, civilian-focused forges, which often unified with or were absorbed by their larger counterparts. While the Interbellum period between the end of the Schism and the beginning of the Restabilizing War was a period of massive technological and societal advancement for the Group, it also saw the Forges grow to become semi-independent units of their own, comparable in some ways to the larger crown corporations in the Earth Kingdom and Fire Nation.

[...]

[Excerpt from Appendix E of the same work]

The major forges of the Interbellum and pre-Res War period (72BSC-2ASC)

Overlord

Buried in a coal vein deep beneath the Owl's Nest in the Si Wong desert, Overlord was initially the Overlord Initiative (est. 106 BSC), founded with the goal of refining Earth Kingdom psyche-alteration and indoctrination techniques. Specifically operating in an 'ethics-optional' environment, Overlord created the systems of rapid psychological stabilization and training that would characterize the Ember Group for decades to come. This Forge was placed in a state of indefinite suspension when the extent of its 'human improvement' project came to light.

Dragon

Concealed within an extinguished volcano on the outskirts of the City of the Sun, the Dragon Forge came to specialize in the construction and field-testing of armoured land vehicles. Thanks to agreements with the Sun Warriors, the Forge was able to operate at massive rates of production without breaking concealment, mainly due to the absence of any real Fire Nation populations in the area. Frequently collaborating closely with Seafoam Forge, Dragon was responsible for the design and creation of the Dragon-series tanks, as well as prototyping work on early 'Powered Harness' assisted-exoskeleton technology. This group was the largest by personnel and budget of the three so-called 'Machine Forges', all founded by Fire Nation engineers.

Serpent

The second-largest of all the Forges by size, Serpent Forge was located on the seabed at the center of Chameleon Bay. Though often called a Machine Forge, Serpent was unusual in that it consistently rejected this designation. One of the most multicultural forges, Serpent included teams of researchers from all 4 nations in its development of the Ember Group's mostly-submersible navy. They were also crucial in early work on the ballistic rocketry which would later come to characterize the Ember Group space program.

Snake

The second of the Machine Forges, Snake was built into the ruins of the Southern Air Temple, where it served as the development hub for airship, and, near the end of the Res War, airfoil research. Initially populated mostly by Firebenders, the population of Serpent slowly evolved until it was mostly Airbenders. In the Year of the Comet, Snake was host to an unexpected visit by the Avatar, who came extremely close to compromising the Forge's existence. Fortunately, the group was not discovered, and restoration efforts to the temple's Genocide Memorial were successful. Snake forge is notable for its very much Airbender-inspired sense of popular democracy. Even after the end of the Res War, Snake Forge residents were still petitioning for it to be renamed to something more 'Airbender-friendly'.

Seafoam

Hydraulics and pneumatics specialists, the South-Pole located Seafoam Forge was often called the glue that held the other forges together. Inventors of the steam projector, recirculating pneumatics, the modern steam turbine, and numerous other vital technologies, Seafoam was in constant contact with the other Forges, exchanging information and collaborating on the development of most of the Ember Group's heavy machinery.

Root

Located in the fertile river delta across the Northern Strait from the Western Air Temple, Root Forge was the largest of the Forges by size. Focusing solely on civilian technologies, they developed the basis for hydroponic farming, and were responsible for the inception of most modern farming technologies. Root was notable for its extremely high population of Earthbenders, as well as its somewhat unusual tactic of recruiting Earth Kingdom peasants as paid labourers.

Stargazer

Built into the top of Mount Stargazer to the southwest of the Eastern Air Temple, Stargazer Forge occupied itself with communications technology, as well as Operation Skyhook, the early name for the Ember Group Space Initiative. Stargazer was populated mostly by Separatist Airbenders who had left the Nomads long before the Genocide. The vast differences in political, cultural, and even linguistic mores within the Forge's population led to its famous reputation as an extremely competitive environment. After the end of the Res War, Stargazer Forge would remain the centre of the global Space Program, out-shadowing even the Republic City Space Agency.


	16. Document: Hall of Engines Audio Guide

Document: Transcribed excerpt from the publicly-available audio guide (First released 171 ASC) to the Restabilizing War Museum in Republic City. This paleodisc is the third of five, entitled _The Hall of Machines_. For full document, see [DOCUMENT REFERENCE EXPUNGED]

[Engine noise. Sound of projector fire. Ambient war noise.]

It was technology that drove the Ember Group, and Technology which won the Res War. Here in the Hall of Machines, you'll see real Ember Group vehicles from the conflict, from the smallest SP Harness to the mighty bulk of the Industrious Dragon. All of these vehicles are still fully functional, and are activated once a year as part of Breakthrough Day memorial celebrations. Please, do not touch or climb on the vehicles unless permitted to by museum personnel.

[Six minutes omitted. History of Ember Group vehicular technology, including references to the Forges. Early tank prototypes dating from the Schism, small experimental submarines, the airship _Sozin's Ghost_.]

Item Five: The Roaring Dragon

[Actor's recording]

_Men were dying around me. My friends. My comrades. The line was breaking. And then... and then the cavalry arrived. I'll never forget that day. They say the Roarers are a symbol of the Ember Group's efforts in the Res War. I disagree. The Roaring Dragon was the Ember Group._

-Suo He, Corporal, Second Standard Infantry

The most widely-produced vehicle of the Res War, the Roaring Dragon Mark 1 had already been in service for ten years before hostilities commenced. During the conflict, this sturdy, easy-to-produce and versatile design proved itself countless times. It is a testament to the legacy of this design that most vehicles in this hall are in some way based off its chassis. Armed with a Seafoam Mark IX-T steam projector, and a turret-mounted autobow, the mobile, versatile 'Roarer' could provide firepower in a wide variety of battlefield environments. With up to 65 millimeters of bolted armour, it was reasonably survivable in most conflicts, and its high top speed made it a slippery target. It was crewed by four men- a commander/signalman, a driver, a gunner, and a projector loader/engineer. This design showed its age during the Breakthrough, where its bolted armour and 270-degree turret rotation proved to be major handicaps against other armour. Notice how the hull is welded and curved while the turret is the distinctive bolted octagonal shape- the Roaring Dragon was originally to be outfitted with a conical turret, typical of modern vehicles, but a simpler, more economical design was eventually used to save construction and repair costs.

[One minute omitted. Brief overview of the Roaring Dragon Mk1b, and the Roaring Dragon Mk 2 after the war.]

Item Six: Howling Dragon

[Actor's Recording]

_At night, the Dragons howl and fire rains from the sky. Where did they come from?_

-Written in the remains of a diary, recovered from a Norther position after heavy shelling

The anvil to the Roaring Dragon's hammer, the Howling Dragon and its derivatives were the primary artillery vehicle used by the Ember Group for most of the Res War. The peculiar twin-hulled design was the result of a design mistake- the first prototype submitted for consideration was built with twice the boiler space necessary. The resulting vehicle was capable of putting on so much pressure that a second projector was added to the rear hull to literally let off steam. Most vehicles, like this one, which served in the Arctic theatre, were equipped with two 90-millimeter ten-kilo projectors, although a small number of vehicles with significantly heavier weapons were built. Howling Dragons were so named for the poor sound insulation in their hulls- they were infamously loud weapons. The Howling Dragon chassis was seldom used in other vehicles, mainly due to the extreme weight of the heavy coil springs needed to absorb the recoil of the twin weapons.

Item Seven: Emperor Dragon

[Actor's Recording]

_Reinforcements not necessary. Have Emperors. Charging._

-Last optigraph transmission of Colonel Tsenachaq, Twelfth Superheavy Tank Brigade, before the defeat of Tulpa Swarm 5.2 at the Second Battle of Glacier Bay.

Eleven meters long. Four high. Four wide. One hundred and fifty millimeters of frontal armour. Four main weapon mounts spread across two turrets. The Emperor Dragon and its derivatives have been in service with the Group since the last days of the Schism. The fundamentals of the design- namely an elongated hull for crossing rough terrain, multiple independent heavy weapons, and powerful frontal armour make for an assault vehicle whose sheer firepower makes up for its poor manoeuvrability. This particular model is an Emperor Dragon Modern Mark 2c Simplified- the long designation name signifies that it has the easy-to-manufacture hexagonal bolted turret as well as the prototypical light-gas projectors that were typical of the heavier vehicles of its day.

[Twelve minutes omitted. Screaming Dragon sonic attack tank, Spined Dragon tank destroyer, Skyward Dragon missile launch platform, Shield Dragon Infantry Combat Vehicle]

Item 12: Industrious Dragon

[Actor's Recording]

_Build that wall. Build it tall. We'll be making it fall before too long._

-Unattributed, Motto of the 1st Engineering Corps, "Breaker Kings"

It is difficult to describe the average Industrious Dragon. Originally designed as an ultra-simple tractor variant of the Roaring Dragon Mk. 1, the lightened, extremely sturdy chassis was rapidly appropriated as the main engineering vehicle of the Ember Group. Because the standard stripped-down chassis was easily modifiable, it became inevitable that engineers, especially those units with trained Metalbenders or those skilled in riveting, would modify their 'Dusties' for a wide variety of purposes. As a result, it came to be a truism of the Engineering Corps that no two of their vehicles would be even remotely similar in design, even if most of the basic components were the same. This particular vehicle from the 1st was used as a tank recovery craft, hence its thickened armour and heavy crane mounting. Dusties were occasionally used as full-on combat vehicles, notably during the Breakthrough, when at least one unit of the 2nd used stolen Norther cannons and flamethrowers to turn their engineering vehicles into improvised bunker-assault vehicles.

Item 13: Tundra Dragon

[Actor's Recording]

The brass called them Tundras. Said they looked like Fire Nation vehicles. Fair enough. But everyone who'd served in one... well, we normally called them something like "Hold together!" or "You [EXPLETIVE DELETED]"

-Tanker Sergeant Oi Hara, Eighth Tank Brigade "Queens of the Desert"

An unusual design, the Tundra Dragon was hurriedly brought into service when it became apparent that the designing of the Spined Dragon tank destroyer was taking too long. The Tundra was a vehicle designed to provide rapid-response support fire in any combat environment. Armed with the same 60mm projector as the Roaring Dragon, the Tundra's chassis was based off experimental redesigns of the primitive Fire Nation 'tanks' of the same name. While the Fire Nation designs' four-wheeled configuration and overcomplicated self-righting mechanisms were inefficient, the idea of a tank which could scale near-vertical cliffs was nonetheless valid. The Tundra kept the same 'wraparound' tread configuration, trading off most of its armour and interior space for engine power. Capable of top speeds of well over eighty milometers per hour off-road, the Tundra Dragon's real failing was that the engine was powerful enough to permanently damage the tracks, suspension and even hull plating if allowed to run too fast.

[Twenty minutes omitted. Failed 'Heavy Walker' prototypes, including OMU Unit-01 and the complete collapse of the Chief Researcher Gonde's OMU Initiative.]

Item 19: Hidden Serpent

[Actor's Recording]

_Never forget that it was our submersibles__ that held the lines against the enemy while our air fleets replaced losses and repaired wounds. _

-Admiral Nei Motzu

The Ember group was never a naval powerhouse in the same way that they ruled the air. Outnumbered by the massive fleets of the Fire Nation and the huge water Tulpa swarms of the Lotus, the Group turned to flexibility and mobility to make its sea presence felt. This philosophy, which peaked in the years before the Res War, was expressed in the Hidden Serpent. Not a true submarine or a true battlecruiser, the Serpent is best described as a "submersible cruiser", capable of spending moderate amounts of time submerged and firing torpedoes, while at the same time able to surface and unleash considerable firepower from its six 90mm projectors. Though fast and difficult to kill, Serpents were notoriously unpleasant to serve on- the large boilers needed to run the projector systems, as well as the temperature regulators which kept the powerplant from collapsing in cold water, meant that interior space was very much at a premium.

Item 20: BOOM Serpent

[Actor's Recording]

_Projectors? Don't need them. Or the magazines. Or the boilers. Hells, strip out the anti-air mounts, too. If you can't use it to store or fire a rocket, it gets removed. Are we clear?_

-Minutes from the BOOM Project's design meetings at Serpent Forge

The Ballistic Ordnance and Operational Materiel Serpent, more commonly BOOM or 'Boomer' submersible began as a cargo variant of the of the Hidden Serpent, until an incident wherein a rocket destined for use on a Skyward Dragon was accidentally set off during an unloading procedure in rough seas. In the aftermath, it was realized that, while the back-blast had destroyed most of the ship's interior, its specially widened, well-balasted cargo-bearing hull had remained remarkably stable. Several months of modifications later, the BOOM had been outfitted with separately sealed rocket tubes and a complicated ventilation system. The entire forward hull could carry up to thirty mid-range artillery rockets which could be independently aimed and fired, but still had the space for a not insignificant amount of cargo. This led to a peculiar system whereby BOOM Serpents would arrive at a theatre as offensive support, but depart as unarmed cargo vessels.

[Ten minutes ommitted. Thunder Serpent rapid patrol craft, history of Ember Group airship design]

Item 24: Soaring Snake

[Actor's Recording]

_The heavens fill'd with commerce, argosies of magic sails/ Pilots of the purple twilight, dropping down with costly bales/ Heard the heavens fill with shellfire, and there rain'd a burning dew/ And all the airmen shouted "Lotus? Hey! F*ck you!"  
_-Graffiti from the Airship Academy. Adapted from Tien Ai Sun's _Lay of the Airman_.

The Soaring Snake-class airship was to the skies as the roaring Dragon was to the ground- versatile and oft-adapted. A solid, rigid-skinned hydrogen-powered vehicle with eight twin-bladed engines, it could maintain reasonably high speeds without Airbender assistance, and carry a wide variety of combat loads. Though the numerous variants of the Soaring Snake were never classified beyond identification numbers, there were three general schools of variation. SS-A vehicles were equipped with broadside rocket launchers and a mix of light and heavy projectors, SS-Bs were armed solely with rockets and bomb bays for use as bombardment and support vehicles, and SS-Cs eschewed all non-projector armament in favour of troop bays for rapidly deploying Harness-equipped infantry.


	17. XII- Battle Royale

Higher ground. Si had been groomed from his late teens for a command post. A fact which had literally been imprinted on his subconscious was that higher ground equalled victory. Now, he wasn't so sure. And his ground was half a kilometer up. The Industrious Snake-class cargo airship _Long Haul_ was tethered firmly to the roof of the Imperial Palace, its cargo winches converted to carry simple elevator platforms. It was a precarious ride up, but the observation post was worth it. Most of the airship's cavernous twin hulls were packed with communications equipment: at this altitude, optigraph signals could go very, very far in clear weather. Higher ground. And yet he still cursed himself for his stupidity.

It wasn't that the Ember Group was losing. Anything but. The Lotus had used their usual predictable, brute-force tactics. Tulpa of all shapes and sizes circled beyond the reach of their most powerful projectors, occasionally dipping closer to let loose with blasts of heat, cold, or air. There hadn't been any real damage to the Group's front lines since the single Water unit had exploded. In the massed barrage that followed it, the engineers had been able to move up and re-consolidate the defensive line around the gaping hole, although cleanup operations were going poorly. Losses had been heavy, but not cripplingly so. The deaths of large numbers of AP-equipped infantry wasn't a problem- they were only at their most useful if the enemy broke the line. And he wasn't worried about that. The new light-gas projectors on the Emperor and Spined Dragons were working frighteningly well, they still hadn't had to deploy the Screaming Dragons (although a little morale-boosting music might be nice), _and_ he'd just received word from Stargazer that they'd launched their first set of taikonauts up to Skyhook One. In about a day or two they would have the platform, and more importantly HARmONy, back at full operating capacity. Hells, the navy had even supplied a 'spare' wolfbatpack of BOOM Serpents, as if he needed more long-range firepower. If anything, the Ember Group had an excess of weapons.

No, the problem was with strategy. The Ember Group had mobilized, expecting to deal with a single Hub. Now there were reports of Tulpa at both Poles, Tulpa in the Si Wong, Tulpa over Omashu and Ba Sing Se... Tulpa, Tulpa everywhere. And he'd gone and put his main mobile strike force into a siege situation from the get-go.

* * *

"Zhujue, everything is in readiness."

"Operation Thunderclap will now begin. Crush them utterly."

* * *

Mai's ears popped at the very moment the knife left her hand. The guard dropped quietly, but she didn't even watch him fall.

"Do you two feel that?"

Spinning gracefully, Ty Lee slammed her prey's face into a beam in the trench wall, letting him fall as she somersaulted to a standing finish. She hadn't even broken a sweat.

"Feel what? All I'm feeling is fun! It's great to be in a team again! I've been thinking about what to call us! I always thought of us as Ozai's Angels because it sounds so poetic and flowing but now that Ozai's in prison and Azula's- Nevermind, we need a new name! But that can wait!"

Suki sheathed her sword, leaving three armour-clad warriors in various states of bruised unconsciousness.

"I don't know what you're talking about, _milady_."

Thunder rumbled. She blinked.

"Oh. Oh that. When did it get so _dark_?"

Mai skywards as heavy rain began to fall. It hadn't been rainy when they got here. The darkness was partially the setting sun, but the clouds were too heavy to be natural.

"The weather never changes this quickly over the Capital. It has to be Waterbending."

Suki had borrowed a compact telescope from one of the soldiers and was using it to scan the hillside.

"Last I heard, Waterbenders couldn't fly_, milady. _You should know."

Mai rolled her eyes. Suki was cooperating more than she'd anticipated, but she seemed to make go out of her way to be facetious and stubborn whenever possible. It was like she was sticking to her grudges just to prove a point.

"They have zeppelins, Suki. Although if they're holding the city, why would they bother to make it stormy? It's not like it would help them in any way-"

"-unless they're looking to turn your precious capital into one giant rice paddy."

From a standing start, Ty Lee scaled one of the strange signalling towers that littered the mountainside. At the moment, most of the invading army's attention seemed to be turned landwards- there was a constant distant rumble, like faraway thunder, coming from the western side of the crater.

"Those birds aren't zeppelins. And they aren't birds, either. But their auras have such a nice _blue_ colour!"

She dropped lightly down from the mast, dusting herself off in calm defiance of the rain.

"Birds, Ty Lee?"

"Yeah! I can only see their auras. They're strong. I mean really, _really _strong. But they're carrying... um. Have you ever seen, like, a squid? Like a live one? Swimming and being all squiddy and happy?"

Suki shrugged over Ty Lee's shoulders. Mai sighed.

"You're saying that _giant invisible squid birds_ are causing the storm."

Suki seemed to be on the verge of saying something. Then she stopped. And blinked. Mai had never seen someone look so monumentally dumbfounded before.

"Mai... Mai, Ty Lee's mostly right. Giant birds. Holding giant squids."

"_What?_"

She pointed. Hurtling towards them was a vaguely birdlike figure, its wingtips trailing clouds of faintly glowing blue mist. Perched upon its back was a squamous, lumpy shape, vaguely resembling a massive octopus. Its tentacles, roiling like geysers, directed violent sprays of water towards the defenses on the hill, which responded by launching clouds of explosive... pellets? Mai had never seen their like before. Then again, she'd never seen a gigantic humanoid bird-thing that looked to be made out of lacquered balsam. With a thunderclap of collapsing air, it roared out to sea over the Great Gates, easily dodging the weapons of the few submarines moored there.

Suki shook her shoulder.

"We need to get to that hidden entrance _now_. If they were trying to destroy that thing, it means their attention is now focused on this side of the hill."

"No one's attacking them."

She pointed at the boxy, tube-tipped bunker further down the trench. Mai knew what those were called. That tit Si had named them. Throwers. Launchers. Damn. Something like that.

"They were using those against the... the things in the air. If one of them isn't working, they'll know something's wrong.

Mai nodded.

"Let's go."

They rounded a corner, moving swiftly and quietly. The rain was pouring now, masking their footsteps. Thankfully, the Ember Group, whoever they were, didn't seem to mount patrols between individual trench segments, otherwise they'd have been found out long ago. She could only hope they hadn't found the escape tunnel, one of dozens which led through the magma chambers to the deep command centers, in the bowels of the semi-dormant volcano. From there, they'd have rapid access to anywhere in the city; a completely undetectable network of tunnels set in place in the (increasingly less unlikely) event of an anti-occupation campaign within the Capital. They were moving upwards, zig-zagging through a communication trench. Mai rounded a corner, and slammed facefirst into the thick, flanged armour of an Ember Group soldier. She levelled her (crossbow. Probably) at Mai, as did the other twenty-three soldiers following her.

"Halt!"

A rope dart knocked the crossbow from the woman's hands. Ty Lee whooped, somersaulting between her legs and exploding in a flurry of gentle blows into the center of the Ember Group Squad. She seemed to have no difficulty getting through their armour, finding chinks and soft spots where none appeared to exist. Soldiers dropped like flies before her giggling whirlwind of paralysis and significant discomfort. Meanwhile, Suki was hacking away at three soldiers, all finesse gone in the cramped trench space.

Mai dropped into a low stance, unable to maneuver. The rope darts required too much horizontal space- there was a risk of hitting Suki. Time for something more traditional. Reaching into her sleeves, she grasped a pair of thin knives in each hand and let fly, grabbing a new pair almost before the first left her hands. She aimed for the neck, but the Ember Group soldiers seemed to have armoured collars. There was no evidence of the same protection around the armpit, so she shifted her weight and threw again. Two soldiers dropped. Much better. Several of them seemed to have their bows up. She tried to hit them, but she was slightly too late. A thumb-sized bolt whizzed past her head, exploding against the trench wall behind her. She fell forwards, getting a facefull of mud. Disoriented, she staggered to her feet, only to receive the butt of a crossbow to her stomach. She reached blindly forwards, grabbing what felt like a helmet, and brought her other hand up. There was a _crunch, _followed by a muffled choking noise. She flicked the dart back into her sleeve. It was warm. She didn't have time to wipe her eyes before another soldier was upon her, firing carefully. She flung herself sideways, the acrobatic leap unsteady on the muddy ground, then hopped up the side of the trench, hitting her opponent in the eyes with a dart in mid-leap. She took an instant to survery the trench. Ty Lee and Suki were holding their own, if the mass of groaning bodies was any indication. She squinted against the rain at a flash of red light. A Firebender. Thunder rolled.

"Ty Lee! Bender! Get him!"

Suki could cover herself with her shield, but Mai knew that she and Ty Lee would burn regardless of their remarkable skills. She snapped her wrist, and a dart wound itself around the man's wrist, yanking him out of his stance and making the flames in his hands gutter. In his instant of instability, Ty Lee was at his throat, fingers going for the pressure points that would shut him down. Then, suddenly, his stance shifted. As her arm came up, so did his, twisting into a strange, sliding block that turned them both sideways. Then, with a mighty wrench on the rope dart that pulled Mai off her feet, he lunged forwards and tapped Ty Lee's shoulder, ever so gently. Her arm fell limp, and she gasped. The soldier laughed coarsely.

"Fire Nation nomads aren't the only chi-blockers on the planet, girl."

The young chi-blocker flipped towards her opponent, functional arm striking forwards with considerably less gentleness. He blocked, and she made a riposte that turned out to be a feint as she slid between his legs, punching upwards into the inside of his thigh. Mai tired to regain her hold on him with the rope, but several of his companions were now directing their weapons her way, and she had to constantly roll and somersault as the edge of the trench was torn to bits by the rolling detonations. Bits of gravel and clods of earth stung her legs and back, and she winced, losing her hold on the dart. The cord's automatic release snapped free, and she was left momentarily disarmed. Fortunately, Ty Lee had found an opening, and was repeatedly yanking the Firebender's armoured shoulder back at an unpleasant angle, trying to wrench it out of its socket. She was screaming obscenities, something Mai had never seen her do. Even at her lowest, Ty Lee wasn't the swearing type.

Mai almost didn't notice that the ground had begun to shake. There was a call of "Earthquake!" from much higher up the line, repeated by trench after trench. The constellation of lights and signals on the hillside was beginning to strobe red, and there were more and more alarms competing with the rumble of the storm. The fighting slowed to a halt, as everyone still standing concentrated on keeping their balance. The floor of the trench was a morass of mud and bodies, Ty Lee and Suki's unconscious victims strewn about like living carpets. Mai's victims were the same, only slightly less living. Nonlethal didn't mean non-injurious, especially when throwing knives were involved.

"What the hell is going on here?", she yelled over the rumble of the earth. The quake was lasting too long. It should have been over by now. The firebender shook his head, looking dazed even with a full-face mask on.

"This isn't us."

There was a strangled yelp from Suki. The amount of completely uncontrolled fear in her voice was enough to silence the confused yells of the unsteady soldiers.

"Mai... Mai, it's..."

She pointed to the ocean. The waters were receding from the Great Gates, leaving the entire harbour dry and exposed. The lightning cast weird shadows over the glistening mats of seaweed and slowly dying fish.

"It's... a... Kyoshi help us all..."

An Ember Grouper removed her helmet, brown eyes cold and hard. Her bone structure and colouration wasn't entirely dissimilar to Suki's, although she looked flushed despite the cold rain. Her armour was lighter in colour, the insignia on her shoulders much more elaborate.

"Tsunami. A big one. It's tearing up the sea bottom. We don't have much time."

* * *

Two minutes later, a wall of water twenty meters high hit the docks of the Capital. It would have been relatively harmless, normally- the inhabitants of the geologically-unstable Fire Nation were no strangers to small earthquakes or the resultant waves. Unfortunately, this wave didn't stop. It seemed to carry the ocean with it, driven by the Tulpa floating within its depths. The docks were submerged in an instant, washing away the Serpent submersibles moored there. Those few that were deep enough to avoid the wave were still trapped under the surface by the massive, roiling currents that the continuous quake produced. And then it hit the mountainside. And began to _climb_. Line after line of defensive emplacements was submerged, save a few where Waterbenders or Earthbenders reacted rapidly enough to throw up barriers. The wave crested at the lip of the volcano's crater, seemingly hesitating to regain its strength. The dark water turned a sickening brown as stone and earth were sucked up by its currents. The troops in the crater didn't need to hear the order to know what they needed to do: _fire_. The tip of the wave exploded as dozens upon dozens of steam projectors unloaded into it. The rumble of the storm was drowned out by the immense force of the detonations. The wave curled in upon itself, and then began to compress, throwing up clouds of frost as it flash-froze, becoming a cratered, fist-shaped extension of ice leading from the sea up the mountainside. The ice refroze as fast as it could be melted by incoming fire: already, it was cold enough that the ground beneath it had frozen solid. The wave had stopped. But the Tulpa guiding it hadn't. They pushed through the ice like ghosts, hissing as they directed streams of water under so much pressure they were almost solid downwards towards their attackers.

Several individual groups of airships, their optigraphs flickering messages of frantic cooperation, braved the storm and the lightning to attack the aquatic beachhead directly. Troops on the ground cheered as the lumbering vehicles turned broadside to the ice, readying tremendous rocket volleys. Thunder rolled. Except thunder didn't tear holes in airship hulls. Thunder didn't generate blindingly bright spheres of superheated air. Air Tulpa did. A massive swarm of the winged constructs pulled out of a coordinated dive, their slipstream tossing the crippled airships aside like leaves on the wind. As soon as anti-air projectors turned on them, they slipped back inside the cloud cover, their escape routes guarded by skeins of lightning.

The command centre the Ember had set up in the main hall of the Palace was a sea of chaos, at the center of which stood Si. Damage reports were starting to come in. Dozens of airships downed. The BOOM Serpents were who knew where. Long-range communications were borderline impossible. They'd tried to link up with the deep pneumo lines attached to the Attuned stations, but the continuing quake was just strong enough to make messages unreliable. The Group's defensive line seemed to be holding, but any further attacks from the Lotus would mean losing the eastern side of the crater. The armored divisions on the western reaches- around the crater- were reporting Earth Tulpa movements. He took a deep breath.

"Gentlemen. Focus."

There was no response. So he whistled. It wasn't loud, but it was shrill, with an odd, warbling harmonic that pierced the din. Silence fell like a shroud as everyone within hearing range stopped dead, their eyes glazing over. Then they were back in motion. But something had changed. The panic vanished. There was no panicked shouting, no sense of fear. Just quiet, mechanical precision. One useful thing about the Group's subliminal training techniques- there were all sorts of useful psyche-stabilization codes that could be implanted. Si spoke firmly and clearly, not taking his eyes off the map table. He didn't need to look around to know that everyone who was supposed to listen to him was doing just that.

"Thank you. Now. Get a team of Waterbenders on the task of locating the BOOMs. They are to commence targeted bombardment with Cloudbuster missiles. Mobilize the Screaming Dragons, if they're still functional. If we have any troop-carrying airships still loaded, get them above the storm and get a status report off to the Lagoon. This tsunami and quake is obviously artificial. I want a team of Attuned locating the source. If we can find it, the subs can shut it down. And get as many Airbenders in the air as possible. If there's anyone who can dodge lightning, it's the Sky Troop. Remember, gentlemen. A little bad weather will NOT stop us."

There was a crackling series of explosions from outside. A few seconds later, a signalman stumbled in.

"General! Earth Tulpa on the western hillside! The artillery parks are being hit with cold-ray fire!"

* * *

The only sound beneath the earth was the constant _drip, drip, drip_ of melting ice. It was deathly cold. Every so often, the firebender would throw another handful of flames into the little camp stove someone had set up in the center of the bunker, although it didn't do much more than melt the layer of hoarfrost on the compacted stone ceiling. Mai, Suki and Ty Lee were huddled against one wall, clumped around the little steam engine that one of the Ember Group soldiers had called a "projector core". Whenever the little machine seemed to be cooling, one of them fed a small fuel pellet into it, and it roared to life for a few more minutes. It wasn't enough, though. They were all slowly freezing to death.

"Anything, Rei?"

The Kiyoshian woman was chewing on what looked like hardtack. She still looked significantly less cold than anyone else, and since she'd started fiddling with the collar around her neck, her eyes had taken on a glassy cast that Mai didn't like. The woman shook her head.

"Nothing. They haven't done enough damage to the glacier to break it, yet. And the water Tulpa are putting up a hell of a fight. I'm afraid you're stuck with us, Lady Mai."

The floor shook, and there was a low noise, like the bellow of a wounded animal. Rei winced; Mai wasn't sure what she was doing, but apparently she had some means of seeing outside.

"Son of a bitch... that isn't good."

The firebender glanced enquiringly at her, breath forming steamy clouds.

"Bad news?"

"Earth Tulpa. They're hitting the landward side."

A low mutter travelled through the Ember Group platoon. Mai caught only snatches of the conversation, but she didn't like what she was hearing. Suki grabbed her shoulder, her voice a harsh whisper.

"We need a plan. We can't just sit here and freeze to death."

"There's a glacier above us! You saw that wave, you can feel this cold! Last I checked, none of us except that guy were firebenders. Unless the Fire Navy's raids on Kiyoshi Island were more... invasive then I'd heard."

It was a stupid thing to say. Mai was past caring. She was cooped up inside a block of frozen concrete underneath _her _capital. Suki's eyes widened. Without a word, her sword was at Mai's throat.

"How _dare_ y-"

Mai had a knife pressed to the inside of Suki's wrist, and another one ready for her eye. Ty Lee gasped.

"What are you two _doing_?"

There was a faint _hiss_ from the other side of the bunker. They'd all levelled their crossbows. One of them was hefting a tubular lance as wide as her fist, a projector core burning away at its base. Rei stood, also holding a smaller pistol crossbow.

"I suppose this is as good a time as any to inform you that you're in Ember Group custody. I wouldn't like to have to give the fire order, but you're all expendable. Do I make myself clear."

It wasn't a question. So Mai sheathed her knives, and resumed her age-old pastime of staring at the ceiling, brooding. Brooding worked. People didn't bother other people who were staring fixedly at a point in space with a frown on their face. Then she felt the earth begin to shake. It had happened previously, but never like this. Never with _rhythm_. At the whispered question of one of the other soldiers, Rei nodded firmly. A subdued cheer went up. Well, it was nice to see that someone was having a good time.

* * *

"Sonic weapons? You're sure?"

"Yes, Zhujue."

"But they were immobile platforms! The last we faced during the Great Betrayal occupied an entire mountain! How is this possible?"

"I- I don't know, Zhujue."

"_Prajna_ take them all, for our sake. Abandon the earth units. All of them. Direct our efforts on the skyborne assault. We still have the storm."

"And the Locii?"

"What about them?"

"Zhujue, we have five humans operating as Locii for the earth force. Shall I have them extracted?"

"That will not be needed. They are to be considered expendable resources."

"Of course, Zhujue."

* * *

Oi was, all things considered, remarkably comfortable.

"Anyone else feel like-"

"Like you're sitting on a cloud? Yep. This is gonna do terrible things to my spine, just you wait."

"Pffff. I've sat on clouds. Honestly, they're overrated. And your pants end up soaked."

"Excellent punchline, Sangmu. Now I just need to think up a joke."

Nut was on the verge of laughter, but the look in Sangmu's eyes shut him up. Her voice was unnervingly cheerful.

"Oi, I will castrate you with my bare hands."

The door on the far wall of the well-appointed sitting room slid open. Lao Beifong held the door open for his wife, then pulled it shut quietly. She spoke first.

"Welcome to Gaoling. I assume if you're here, the Elrics are in town...?"

"Lieutenant, ma'am. No names. And you know about them?"

Poppy Beifong nodded, eyes narrowing. There was something hard as rock behind that plump, middle-aged facade of hers.

"We get the daily reports on the pneumo, same as the rest of the Group's informants. And we keep an ear to the ground. They're with the Earth King, correct?"

Sangmu nodded sharply.

"Yes ma'am."

"Which means they're going to try and draw on our daughter's so-called criminal network."

Lao sighed, kneading the bridge of his nose. Sangmu cocked her head, in that irritating way that Oi knew far too well. Whenever she did it, it meant she was about to pry.

"Is there a problem, Mr. Beifong?"

He sighed again, but quickly regained his composure.

"Nothing particularly relevant to your task at hand, lieutenant."

Sangmu said nothing, letting the silence drag out slightly too long.

"Oh for heaven's sake, fine. Look. Having Toph in the Earth Rumbles was fine. We could keep tabs on her, but she'd be free to train her skills and foster her competitive spirit in relative safety. Then the Avatar swept her off to the war... I mean we were proud when she came back from the war and all. She'd grown into the competent, independent spirit we'd planned for her to be. But now she's starting this sprawling semi-legal... _thing _in the Colonies. We've tried to keep our hands off... play the contrite, chastened role, but if the Ember Group gets involved..."

"So you want to keep her ignorant of the Group? She could be extremely valuable!"

He shook his head firmly.

"No, it's not that. It's just that all of this is accelerating faster than we'd planned. Look, whatever you do to acquire the Elrics, minimize Toph's involvement, please. We worked hard to keep Gaoling out of the last war-"

"And did an admirable job of it, by the way."

"-thank you. We have no interest in getting our city embroiled in the next one, especially if the full force of the Lotus is involved."

Sangmu stood abruptly.

"Contrary to what you'd expect from a tank full of combat benders, we're going to take the subtle approach. The first intermission of the Rumble's in what, half an hour? We'll move in, snatch them up before they can get to your daughter. Kuei will not be a problem."

Poppy cleared her throat.

"Don't you think an Airbender with full tattoos would be a tad... flashy? And those uniforms of yours, while blessedly neutral-toned, are still rather distinctive."

Sangmu grinned, somehow managing to make her straight, slightly off-white teeth look serrated.

"You're accusing us of a lack of subtlety? Believe me, Mrs. Beifong, there is nothing quite so subtle as forcing the air out of a man's lungs."

Oi winced inwardly. Why did she always do this? She was all- well, reasonably professional, and then she instantly became an utter psycopath. No dividing line between the two.

_Ding!_

A cleverly-concealed slot in one of the room's numerous supporting pillars slid open at Lao's touch, revealing the small pneumo tube within. There was a small brass tag slotted into the forward end, its surface marked with a red slash and three dots. Top Priority. You _never _saw Top Priority messages. Beifong opened it, feeding the paper within into a thin slit in another pillar. The walls shook slightly, and there was a faint sound of clockwork. A second strip of paper popped out of the same slot, marked with the angular characters of machine writing. Beifong read it.

"_Hou Tu._"

"I didn't know you were the religious type, Mr. Beifong."

He looked up, hand shaking.

"About a dozen confirmed Blue patterns have just appeared, all converging on Gaoling. Multiple Air-types, at least one Earth. They know the Elrics are here."

Poppy suddenly moved to the door.

"I'll go unpack the Harnesses. Lao, your Mark Seven's in the big cabinet with my _chui_, right?"

"Yes dear. I'll go set it up now."

"Um, what the hell are you two doing? There's a small swarm of Tulpa on the way! We need to get the Elrics and get out _now_!"

Lao smiled condescendingly.

"By all means, Lieutenant, you do that. We need to make sure our fragile, precious flower of a daughter is safe. Now if you'll excuse me, I have an antitank projector to charge."

* * *

"WELL, IT'S BEEN A TREMENDOUS FIRST FIFTH, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! WE'VE SEEN SOME EXCELLENT COMBATTANTS FROM THE THREE NATIONS! LET'S GIVE ALL OUR FIGHTERS A BIG HAND, FOLKS!"

Al whooped and hollered. It had been _incredible!_ The deceptively simple "ring out or immobilize" rules meant for thrilling, incredibly swift fights. He hadn't truly appreciated the _versatility _of bending. He'd seen fighters shroud themselves in sand, strike with waves of fire and heat, and even twist the water in living plants to their advantage. Incredible.

"BEFORE WE BREAK FOR OUR FIRST INTERMISSION, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, IT'S TIME FOR AN EARTH RUMBLE TRADITION!"

The cheering now mostly came from those Earthbenders in the audience, apparently veteran fans of what the Lancer had (mostly by shouting) explained to be the previous version of the competition. In the comparative silence, the black-clad man leaned in close.

"After this, we'll go backstage to meet with Toph. Be ready."

"THAT'S RIGHT! IT'S TIME FOR THE OPEN FIGHT! ANYONE IN THE AUDIENCE WITH THE GUTS CAN NOW CHALLENGE YOUR HOST, THE IRON BANDIT!"

The small figure on the dais launched herself into the air with a pillar of stone, landing in the center of the ring so hard that it shattered into several pieces. Drinking in the applause, she stood, arms outstretched.

"Come at me if you're hard enough!"

There was a wave of cheering, followed by anticipatory silence. Then came a shout- the sound of someone screaming their lungs out. The boy's voice cracked slightly halfway through.

"**Battle RRRRROYALE!"**

A figure in blue was bounding down the stands, pursued (apparently with some consternation) by another in blue, one in red, and one in orange. Who appeared to be flying. He landed in an explosion of wind, giving a short bow. Ed and Al were on their feet.

"Brother, is that...?"

Ed's shocked response was quite rudely interrupted.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, I- I DON'T BELIEVE IT! IT CAN'T BE! BUT IT IS! PLEASE GIVE A BIG HAND FOR- FOR AVATAR AANG!"

Down in the ring, the little figures had gathered. They seemed to be exchanging hugs. Three fighters came out of the pits around the ring, arraying themselves around Bei Fong. The audience was going insane.

"ALL RIGHT, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN. PREPARE YOURSELVES FOR THE GREATEST FRIENDLY BOUT YOU WILL EVER SEE. A BOUT SO UNEXPECTEDLY FANTASTIC THAT I AM HAVING CONSIDERABLE DIFFICULTY REMAINING COHERENT! IN THE BLUE CORNER, TOPH BEIFONG! THE BOULDER! THE INCREDIBLE HIPPO! AND THAT WONDERFUL FEMME FATALE, JUUUUUNE!"

Another pause to allow for incoherent cries of joy.

"AND IN THE RED CORNER, THE CHALLENGERS...! SOKKA OF THE SOUTHERN WATER TRIBE! WATERBENDING MASTER KATARA OF THE SOUTHERN WATER TRIBE! HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS FIRELORD ZUKO!"

There were a few boos interspersed with the cheers now, mostly from those fans dressed in blues and greens.

"AND FINALLY! SAVIOR OF THE WORLD! THE MAN WHO BROUGHT PEACE TO THE FOUR NATIONS! IT IS MY HONOUR TO PRESENT! AAAAAVAAAATAAAAAAR! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAANG! BEGIN!"

_WHAM_

_!_

The ceiling of the subterranean arena tore apart, filling the space with a cloud of dust. Through it clattered a mechanical monstrosity- the tank they'd escaped. For a few brief seconds there was nothing but shocked silence. Then the shooting started. Al had seen machine guns, but nothing like this. Each shot was slow, but they exploded into blinding flashes of light where they hit. The crowd began to panic, moving as one massive organism towards the exits. Ed clambered onto the bench seat, fighting to stay upright against the human current.

"Al! Lancer! They followed us! Let's go!"

_Whoomph_

A blast of air swept the stands, carrying with it an unnaturally loud voice. It was a woman, with a cold, sneering note to her speech that Al did _not _like.

"SHOW'S OVER, ELRICS. YOU'RE COMING WITH US. NO MORE RUNNING."

"Brother! We can't leave! They're shooting civilians!"

Ed hauled him bodily onto the seat, pointing at the stitching explosions.

"No, they're not. Look, they're still firing. Everyone's left. And they're aiming well above their targets. Do you see any bodies? No. Didn't think so. We don't need to be here."

Al knew what he wasn't saying. _We saved their lives once. And it didn't get us much. This isn't our fight._

"I understand, brother. Let's... let's go."

By this point, the crowd had thinned somewhat, and they were able to make reasonably good progress towards the exit. Thankfully, the crowd wasn't bunching up or resisting the flow. Everyone was far more intent on getting out.

There was an explosion from behind them. And then the booming voice spoke a second time.

"YOU REALLY SHOULDN'T BE HERE, AVATAR AANG. YOU COULD HAVE MADE IT SO MUCH EASIER FOR EVERYONE INVOLVED IF YOU HAD JUST LEFT THINGS WELL ENOUGH ALONE. KILLING YOU WOULD ACTUALLY SOLVE A LOT OF OUR PROBLEMS."

Ed stopped dead, and Al slammed into his back. There was a tension to his brother's shoulders... yes, his fists were clenched. Al knew what was coming. Ed and his famous responsibility complex.

"We're the cause of all this, Al."

Al sighed. Oh, this wasn't good. It was almost a marvel his brother had made it this far without realizing that point. But now... If he believed he had some role to play in whatever conflict was centered around the lives of Zuko and the Avatar (as well as whatever had happened to the Northern Water Tribe), he'd feel duty-bound to interfere. To set things right.

"We need to set things right. We have to."

"Brother! Please! You said yourself that this isn't our fight!"

Ed turned. There was fire in his eyes.

"It just _became _our fight. Now let's go. The Avatar and the Firelord need our help. Now are you coming or not?"

Al just nodded, although inwardly he was rolling his eyes. Ed clapped his hands, then pressed them to the stone beneath them. A pillar rose from the polished floor, carrying them downwards towards the cloud of smoke and fire that occupied fully half of the arena. As they approached, a slim woman dressed entirely in black- the one the announcer had called Joon, Al guessed, flew backwards out of the cloud, skidding to a halt not far from their elevated pedestal. She glanced at them briefly, her face knotted with pain.

"Here to protect the Avatar? Great. Fine. Just watch out for the dumpy bitch in green. She's got a helluva hitting arm."

With that, her eyes rolled back and she collapsed in a pool of her own vomit.

"THE BOULDER FEARS NO MECHANICAL A-AAAAAARGH!"

A short, barely human figure stumped out of the smoke, clutching a burly man aloft by his neck. The "dumpy bitch in green" was indeed somewhat dumpy, wearing an oddly delicate-looking suit of armour or braces that apparently allowed her to lift the Boulder completely off the ground with very little effort. She raised her free arm, clutching a round-headed mace, and with a puff of smoke drove it into the man's stomach. He went limp, and she dropped him like a sack of potatoes. She glanced up at them, her eyes cold and hard in a slightly plump, well-made-up face.

"Ah. It's you two. And the idiot who calls himself the Lancer."

The figure in black drew a short sword, then stopped short, seeming to recognize the woman.

"Bei Fong? But-"

"Piss off, Kuei. This isn't your fight."

The Lancer- Kuei- dropped his sword, shaking.

"I- that's-!"

"You're not fooling anyone, Your Highness. Now scram."

He ran without another word. Then there was yet another detonation, and the dust cleared. The fat one- Hippo- was on the ground, bleeding from a nasty head wound. Sokka and Zuko both had swords out and were advancing furiously on a Firebender wearing a gray scarf, who fended them off with loud but inaccurate bursts from some kind of shotgun. Toph was exchanging furious blows with a skinny waterbender who seemed to be constantly dodging her attacks, while Katara was stumbling backwards from the repeated impacts of shell after shell that a second figure in armour was launching at her from an anti-vehicle rifle of some kind. And above them all were two Airbenders. The Avatar was a streak of orange, locked in a spinning ballet of martial artistry with a tall woman in gray, wielding a strange stripe-bladed longsword. Every so often, sudden pockets of pressure would buffet the arena as waves of air collided and exploded outwards.

Ed picked clapped his hand and picked up Kuei's sword. The metal screeched and bent around his right arm. For the briefest second, all of the Benders seemed to hesitate. Then he reached under his jacket and pulled out a small snub-nose gun.

"You've been carrying one of the cut down Mark 1 Rifles on you this whole time?"

Ed grinned savagely at him.

"Nothing cooler than a concealed firearm. Cover me. I'm going to help Aang."

With that, he slapped the earth once more and was launched skywards by a pillar of stone. The armoured woman- Bei Fong?- was still advancing, mace held high.

"Don't worry, Elric. I'm not going to hurt you much."

Then Al did something that surprised even him. He ran at her, diving under her steam-powered swipe and rolling to a halt behind her. He clapped his hands, and grabbed her armour-clad ankles, concentrating. Mostly sky iron, so-

The mace hit him under the chin. He bit his tongue, tasting blood, and was suddenly staring up at the ceiling.

"You're bold, kid. I'll give you that. But suicidal bravery will only get an unarmed man so far."

He sat up, hands flat against the ground.

"I'm not unarmed. I'm _armour-clad._"

Mei had taught him some interesting tricks. The rest he'd figured out on his own. Her armour below the waist sparked with static electricity, before peeling off her like something come alive. Suddenly she was staggering, barely able to remain upright under the weight of her own armour. Al hadn't figured that reading all those engineering text would have paid off. But he knew load-bearing pistons and cross-bracings when he saw them. Raise a structure's center of gravity, and the smallest push could topple it. He rolled to his feet, turning the movement into a run. As he neared her damaged armour, he clapped his hands once more, putting one arm into the folded plate. It wrapped around his arm, far thicker than the gestalt automail that Ed had constructed. It was _heavy_. He knew that weight, and let it carry him around, turning a controlled fall into a single downwards-moving punch that hit Bei Fong hard enough to send her slamming face-first into the ground. She hit with a _smash_, her face only saved from utter destruction by the suit's protruding gorget. Al reached down, hands crackling with energy. The metal practically leaped onto him, enfolding him in its cold embrace. He consciously moulded the interior surface into alchemical arrays, keeping the metal fluid enough to move while he was still inside it. It was clunky and awkward, but ever so familiar.

"POPPY! NO!"

There was a hiss, a _bang_, and a shell hit him in the centre of his chest. He skidded back, tremendous bulk keeping him upright, even as a wave of heat and molten metal tried to tear him in half. He gritted his teeth, feeling his eyebrows singe away as he transmuted the liquefied metal into water and let it steam off him. The other armoured man was stomping towards him, ignoring the lashes of water that were tearing strips off his back and sides. He raised the huge rifle. At this distance, he couldn't miss. Then the earth in front of him sprouted spikes of hoarfrost. The skinny Waterbender hit the growing column of ice and seemed to _bounce _off it, only moments before a massive chunk of stone smashed directly into where he had been standing. Atop it stood the Iron Bandit, her armour torn by dozens of thin slice marks- the same kind of Waterbending that Katara was unsuccessfully using. The armoured soldier stumbled as his feet were frozen into the stone. When he tried to pull himself free, tentacle-like bands of liquid wrapped around his chest and shoulders, freezing solid. The Bandit, apparently content to ignore her previous opponent, hopped off the lump of stonework, swaggering up to the armoured man.

"So. You think steam can beat bending? Let's see what you are under all that armour."

She reached forwards, pulling his faceplate off like tissue paper. Then she stopped dead.

"D-dad?"

The armoured man- a third Bei Fong, pressed against the gorget of his suit with his chin. The ice shattered all across his body as the upper half of his armour seemed to explode, sending a hail of sky-iron and steel components skywards. By the time Al had launched himself forwards to protect the Bandit (cursing his poor acceleration all the while), Bei Fong had gently tapped Toph several times on the head and neck. She slumped into his arms, and he kicked forwards, legs billowing steam as he leapt past Al, kicking up a spray of rock fragments that sent Katara reeling. Leaning down to pick up "Poppy", he pressed another button in his suit's neck. Al was just a fraction of a second too slow. As he watched, the pistons in Bei Fong's legs glowed-red hot, and with an explosion of steam he had leaped back up the width of the stadium and out the breach in the roof. Foolishly, Al turned to follow him, and found himself suddenly unable to breath, his armour filled with ice-cold water. He flailed, reeling at the nimble waterbender who skated out of his way. Katara was moving to help him, a cloud of razor-sharp ice fragments whirling about her. Al felt the air leave his lungs as the water surged about him. Acting on instinct, he slammed his hands together. His vision seemed to sharpen. Dimly, through the skein of water that covered his face, he saw Katara's eyes widen. The ice crystals were growing- turning red. Searing lines of pain etched themselves across his face. Katara was suddenly down on one knee, coughing up blood which floated through the air to swirl about the other waterbender. He was standing rigidly, gazing in horror at the holes that were forming in his chest as his flesh melted away and the resulting pinkish fluid tore holes clean through his breastplate. Al forced his hands apart and stood unsteadily, spitting blood. Katara hit the ground, hard. The waterbending soldier fell in half. Al stood stock-still for a moment, coughing the bloody water out of his lungs. His face was a mass of pain- it was like someone had rubbed a sheaf of uneven papers across his cheeks and forehead. He blinked blood out of his eyes and looked aorund.

Their little brawl was, all things considered, going reasonably well. Zuko and the Firebender were locked in combat, launching gouts of flame at each other. Zuko obviously had the upper hand, and was forcing his opponent back towards one of the arena's supporting columns. Sokka was nowhere to be seen, although Al could swear that there was more and more steam coming from the abandoned tank, which had several large dents in its front plating. Above, the Airbenders were still fighting. Aang had the advantage of speed- he was moving almost too fast to see, feet barely touching the ground as he bent earth, water, fire and air to reach his quarry. The woman he fought, however, had something odd on her side. Whatever she was doing to the air, it could stop Aang. Every time she raised her arms or made a strike, the space resounded with a dull _whumph_, and waves of pressure and wind rushed about her. Aang simply couldn't get close enough to land a hit on her, just as she couldn't move quickly enough to hit him. It took him a few seconds to find Ed; he was sheltering behind the tank, firing wildly at the Airbender. He knew his brother was far more comfortable earthbound than anything else. And there was also the risk that whatever his alchemy did to Aang's bending could kill or otherwise injure the Avatar. After a few brief seconds to check that Katara wasn't choking on her own blood, Al began to stamp up towards the vehicle, the gusting wind currents a gentle breeze when faced with the huge amounts of mass he could now exert.

Suddenly, the Airbender changed tack. Kicking off one wall, she somersaulted in midair, diving downwards towards Ed. Her sword gleamed in the dim light as she plunged vertically at him, clouds of dust spiralling about her. He rolled out of the way, but as she hit the ground, the air around her exploded outwards, knocking Ed off his feet and sending the gun clattering away. Al willed his armour into even faster motion, kicking sparks off the floor as his alchemically-destabilized second skin screeched and groaned about him. Ed swiped at the woman, but she waved a hand, and he collapsed to one knee, clutching his ears and gasping. She moved to contemptuously hamstring him, but was rebuffed as her sword grated off Ed's automail. Dimly, Al heard a shout of fear and pain coming from Zuko's general direction, but it was far away. Ed was in danger. He hit her like a ton of bricks, sending her smashing into the ground just as a fireball from Aang exploded around him. She tried to struggle against him, inhaling an impossibly deep breath that made his ears pop. He tensed his arms, and felt the arrays in the metal spark against his skin. The ruddy glow of another fireball illuminated the panic in her eyes as she opened her mouth. The air sharpened. And everything exploded. He was hurled backwards, bouncing end over end as the massive concussion did terrible, terrible things to the air in the enclosed stadium. By the time he'd slowed to a halt, Aang and the Airbender were both on the ground, out of commission, and Ed was back on his feet, looking off-balance. Then Al saw it. The Firebender. His shotgun leveled at an unsuspecting Ed. He pulled the trigger. His brother fell, body juddering. Al clenched his fists. The armour burned incandescent with static as he exploded out of it, propelled by a column of rapidly-expanding stone that sent him flying out of control towards the Firebender. The panicked man tried to raise a hand to stop him. Al clapped his hands and watched absently as the man's hands exploded, flesh melting off them like wax. He fell back, screeching in agony. Al hit the ground hard, feeling something in his chest give way as he skidded along the stone, skin rubbing off his hands and knees. The air smelled of burnt flesh. It didn't matter. He stood up slowly, staggering over to Ed. He lay prone, surrounded by five small sandbags. He was breathing, but bleeding slightly from what looked like severe bruises to his back and shoulders. He was alive. That was all that mattered.

Above him, the ceiling shattered and the streamlined face of an air Tulpa forced its way through the gap, roaring mechanically. It didn't matter.

-~0X0~-

So. In light of several negative comments from trusted reviewers, and my own nagging doubts about Chapter 12, I've decided to rewrite it. It's almost 2000 words longer, more Ed and Al-centric, and it has Mai stabbing a dude through the bottom of the jaw. So yeah. Before I post the next chapter, I'll probably to a quick skim-through of the entire to cut and tweak a few things. No rewrites as major as this chapter, just fixing stuff I hadn't gotten around to fixing.

Also: ohmygosh Korra is consistently awesome.


	18. XIII- The Mighty Fallen

Al stared down at his brother, breath ragged. His face was burned and scored with cuts. Every time he inhaled a burning dagger jabbed him in the side. He was covered in bruises, and both of his ankles felt like they'd been dislocated. His hands were a mass of raw, friction-burned tissue. Al didn't really care about all that; Ed was alive.

Chunks of masonry and stone tumbled down around him as the... the _thing_ in the ceiling worked its way further and further into the ruined arena, screeching as it pushed. It was coming after them. It was after Ed. And he couldn't allow that.

He walked unsteadily to his discarded metal shell- not entirely sky-iron, he realized now. Some kind of alloy. Hence the weight. He would have to fix that problem later- and gently touched the mercurial metal. In a shimmering display of static, it enfolded itself about him, and once more he was armour-clad. He knew, deep down, that he shouldn't feel this way. So _comfortable_. He was locked in a suit of alchemically-destabilized metal which was probably doing terrible things to his skin and nervous system. But he had to protect Ed. So he clapped his hands.

The beast in the ceiling stopped dead, its skin creaking. Its four-pronged mouth was open like a bruised flower, the four 'petals' uneven and twitching spasmodically. The screech changed into a tortured whining, like a power line in a strong wind. Slowly, one of its winged shoulders twisted forwards. And kept twisting. There was a horrific _crunch_, and the limb popped out of its... wooden? Socket, pulling lines of cord and tubing with it. The ruptured shoulder was- well, it wasn't blood. It was translucent blue mist that dissipated almost instantly- but it was _bleeding_. As he watched, one of the lower jaws bent outwards at an impossible angle and fell away from the head. The whining became a whimper of agony. It came from a throat that was not even remotely human, but the pain was evident. A huge crack tore its way across the creature's torso, haemorrhaging blue fluid. The gigantic sphere of dull gray metal in the center of the thing's chest was vibrating, tearing free of whatever restraints held it in place. Suddenly it was falling. There was a _pop_, a brief flash of horrible unearthly light and sound that made Al's ears scream, and it was gone, leaving the twisted and broken corpse of the creature behind.

He shrugged, picked up Ed's limp form, and walked out of the stadium. By the time the Ember Group response team arrived, all they found was a stadium full of severely wounded men and women, the Avatar included, and a badly shaken town full of the remains of half a dozen core-less Tulpa. The Elrics had vanished once more.

* * *

Aang awoke very gradually, and had the presence of mind to keep his eyes closed when he heard two unfamiliar voices having a furious argument. Well, the male voice was having a furious argument, while the woman was desperately trying to defend herself. And by the sound of things, he was just getting warmed up.

"Sergeant Sangmu Tsenpo. I think I speak for General Si and the entire Ember Council when I say _what the fuck was that? _What in the hells possessed you to think that was a good idea?"

"Lieutenant Shou, sir. I thought that, given the presence of the White Lotus-"

"You thought driving a _tank_ into a stadium of unarmed civilians was a good idea?"

"Sir, the time for subtlety had passed, sir. _Any_ tactically aware leader would have-"

The man whistled three notes, and the woman gasped in fear.

"Sergeant Tsenpo. I have been given complete authority to have you executed or psyche-wiped for this flagrant breach of conduct. Now, I don't want to have to re-assert your schizophrenia and paranoid delusions, but if you continue to dig yourself a deeper hole I will have no choice but to trigger the release of your psychological stabilizers. Is that clear."

It wasn't a question.

"Y-yes, sir."

"Good. Now let's review, shall we. You openly demonstrated Ember Group technology in front of uninvolved civilians. You caused severe damage to your materiel in a situation where such damage was not necessary. You forced our most valuable informants in Gaoling to break their cover and almost got their daughter killed. You got Tanker Sergeant Nutarniq killed. Your 'plan of attack' permanently crippled Tanker Sergeant Oi Hara. The Avatar, the Fire Lord, and two citizens of the Southern Water Tribe are in our custody, but seriously injured. Good for you. We didn't even know they were there, but you got 'em. Which just leaves... ah yes, the Elrics."

"Sir, there's-"

"We know about the problems with their abilities. We lost five of our Attuned when they tried to scan the combat site and the remains of the Tulpa. Five good men and women, just doing their jobs. But at the moment, they don't matter. What does is that _you_ let the Elrics escape. As far as the Council and the General are concerned, this is entirely _your_ responsibility."

Aang fell asleep at that. As the world faded away, he realized they were moving.

* * *

After several hours in a cold, dank and poorly-lit underground chamber, surrounded by armed guards, Mai, Suki and Ty Lee were moved to a warm, dry and poorly-lit underground chamber, surrounded by even more armed guards. That had been... probably three days ago. Thankfully, the earthquake had stopped, and from what she'd seen of the Capital, the Ember Group had destroyed the glacier occupying their prime real estate.

It was a fairly standard Fire Nation cell. Three low, reasonably-soft pallets on the smooth, clean stone floor. A latrine, concealed behind an extremely thin paper curtain. One whole wall was iron bars, about as thick as Mai's wrist, their ends cemented into the stone by the direct application of extreme heat. Her bored reverie was interrupted by a snort from Suki.

"I just realized something. I'm actually getting nostalgic for the Boiling Rock!"

Ty Lee rolled over, clutching her pallet like a full-body pillow.

"I know! They even made the cushions that perfect combination of too soft and too lumpy! I missed them _so much_!"

Mai stared Ty Lee dead in the eyes.

"Ty... did you just use _sarcasm_?"

The chipper chi-blocker just smiled back, face open and disarming. Mai snorted and turned her attention back to the ceiling. She was counting the number of bricks. Yep. Seventy-eight. The key was to do it slowly enough that your mind sort of sank into a stupor. With enough concentration, hours would pass like minutes. Mai had always guessed that she was some sort of meditation prodigy, but it was so _boring._

"Mai. Got a question for you."

She sighed.

"Go ahead."

"Why, exactly, did we attack the Capital alone? I mean, I get we're all good at fighting, and that no one would ever expect an attack like this, but still..."

There was a rustling of cloth. Mai was fairly sure Suki had just turned to look directly at her, but couldn't be bothered to check.

"Mai, unless you're not telling us something, this was a stupid plan. And you've really, really screwed up. Ty Lee, don't tell me you didn't see something like this coming."

"Well, I do trust Mai! Implicitly! But now that you mention it... yeah, this wasn't very clever of you, Mai."

Mai grinned. Very slightly. No one, except maybe Azula, would have noticed it. But it was a grin nonetheless.

"Suki, let me respond to that question with another question. In fact, several questions."

She spoke in her best 'talking to the upper crust' voice. Clear, smarmy and full of bullpigshit.

"How did Ozai try to burn the Earth Kingdom?"

"What?"

She shifted, ever so slightly, and caught Suki's eyes, nodding slightly.

"Answer the question, Suki."

She resettled herself, uncomfortable under the full force of Mai's intentionally reptilian stare.

"Um, well, he Firebent out of an airship. The comet allowed him to burn huge swathes of territory. Scorched earth, I guess?"

Mai nodded again.

"Good. Now, tell me. How long do you think it would take for Ozai, or even Ozai and a fleet of airships, to burn the Earth Kingdom to the ground. All of the Earth Kingdom."

Suki shrugged.

"A-a long time? Like, a really long time?"

Mai closed her eyes, bringing up several mnemonics. For a brief instant, she was sitting in the gardens of the Royal Palace, a list of figures in hand.

"Five months, eighteen days, six hours. Plus or minus about a month. That's without accounting for sleep, food, waste disposal, refuelling, atmospheric disturbances, exhaustion, or acts of the Spirits. Accounting for those aspects yields a total time of well over a year. A year in which, yes, the Earth Kingdom would burn. But also a year in which-"

"In which the leader of the Fire Nation would be completely occupied and unable to rule. Not to mention utterly exposed to attack. It's like dressing up in your most ostentatious clothing and leading an army from the front. You just become a target."

"Not the words I would use, but yes. Now, Zuzu's _beloved _father may have been a dangerously unstable megalomaniac, but his War Ministers weren't nearly so foolish. The comet would only be around for a week or so. So the Fire Nation needed another way to continue its genocidal campaign. One that didn't require immensely powerful firebenders to achieve."

"Where are you going with this?"

"Next question. What is the largest artificial flame in the Fire Nation."

Suki shrugged.

"Hells if I know."

Ty Lee was positively bouncing up and down.

"Ooooooh! Oooooh! We learned this in the Academyyyy!"

"Go for it, Ty Lee."

"The Great Gates of Azulon! Intended as a last-ditch anti-ship harbour denial weapon! Built in-"

"Okay. The Great Gates. So how do you use a gigantic flaming net to burn a whole kingdom? That'd be a hell of a lot of net."

Mai closed her eyes, visualizing again. This time, she was holding a set of blueprints and several thick scrolls, all bearing various 'Top Secret' labels.

"Imagine you have a pipe, covered in many fine holes. Through that pipe you pump liquid fuel, which sprays out the holes. If you ignite one hole..."

"The rest catch and you've got a burning metal bar that will keep burning until you stop pumping fuel through it. I get it. That's how the Great Gates work. Get to the point."

"What if this pipe only had one hole. And the fuel moving through it wasn't liquid, but air. And you could find a way to compress and heat that air such that it ignited _by itself_. What would you have then?"

Suki was silent for a while, pondering.

"A weapon that could burn a continent. If you made it large enough."

"Precisely. Now. Next question."

Ty Lee giggled.

"Oh, this is gonna be good! I can tell!"

"Hold on," Suki protested, "What about-?"

"Did Aang ever tell you about what happened in the Foggy Swamp?"

"Yeah. The whole 'everything alive is a web' thing. But what does that have to do with anything?"

Mai picked idly at a narrow crack in the stone floor, examining her nails carefully. As she'd suspected. There was earth below this. Not much- probably just a thin layer between the floor of the cell and the metal reinforcements that held the bunkers below the Capital together. But enough.

"Suki, what is the current status of the Fire Nation airship _Phoenix Lord Ozai_?"

"Haven't the faintest.", Suki said, looking bewildered.

Mai smiled, letting it show. Suki's expression went from confused to worried, and possibly a little scared.

"You get this one for free. It is- or, rather, _was_ in a secret hangar beneath Ember Island, only a short distance by air from the Capital. Zuko ordered it decomissioned. I ordered it launched. The _Phoenix Lord _is of the same design as the un-named flagship Ozai used. With several... major modifications. In fact, it was originally intended to be part of his genocidal strike force, but it was... delayed for testing."

Suki growled angrily, rubbing her temples.

"So we've got an airship. And we're underground. That leaves us with what, exactly."

"Next question.", Mai said, utterly without emotion. "If you were to capture the consort of the Fire Lord, one of the Princess' personal bodyguards, and an Earth Kingdom war hero and personal friend to the Avatar, where would you imprison them?"

"Close to me. Where I could keep an eye on them, I guess. Will you tell me-"

Mai sat up, reaching into a deep fold of her dress. The guards had been thorough, but they hadn't strip-searched them. Their mistake. She withdrew a small package of tissue paper and dampened cloth, carefully unfolding the wrappings to reveal a tiny spot of green- a single minuscule clump of moss.

"Let's review what we've learned, Suki. One. The Fire Nation has developed a weapon that can single-handedly burn a continent. This weapon was never used. Two. The Fire Nation has a functional military airship not far from where we are now, one which was designed for the express purpose of burning a continent, and it has been mobilized on my orders. Three."

She shoved the moss deep into the crack in the stone, then sat back, watching it carefully.

"You can locate anyone by communing with the web of life. More specifically, the plants that make up that web. Four. We are close to the leadership of the Ember Group. Can you guess what it all means?"

The earth began to shake. From outside came a strange keening wail, as if the living rock was in pain. Suki's eyes widened.

"I guess... I guess it means we duck, and hope they don't miss?"

* * *

Si was, all in all, moderately pleased with himself. The BOOM Serpents had broken the cloud layer through the liberal application of high-altitude explosives. The Screaming Dragons had completely disabled the White Lotus' attack force of Earth Tulpa. They'd succceeded in melting the glacier by literally burning through half their total supply of flame weapons. But the Lotus was holding, and they'd done some monstrous damage to their enemy. The Fire Lady had been captured. So had the Avatar. The loss of the Elrics was unfortunate, but acceptable as long as they were not under White Lotus control. Just as the sun was dawning in the north, so was the Ember Group's star r-

Si blinked. Once more, he was atop his observation platform, gazing out at the destruction below. It was late in the evening. And the sun was dawning in the north. That- that wasn't right. He hurled himself at the largest deck-mounted telescope, centering the bright point of light in the viewfinder then dialling the machine to maximum magnification. First, he saw three words, hastily painted on an unfinished hull. _Phoenix Lord Ozai_. Next, he saw the airship, a skeletal oblong the colour of unpainted metal. Most of the lower hull was unfinished, leaving a framework bridge and engine setup attached to an exposed gas bag. Finally, he saw the weapon. It was a huge tube, running most of the length of the airship. The hull of the ship was mottled with huge air intakes, all leading in to the base of the tube. It looked like a gigantic steam projector. But steam projectors didn't _glow_. The bow end of the tube was covered by a rough metallic fairing, which, Si guessed, was supposed to look like the head of a dragon. Except they hadn't finished it. The entire structure was melting off the bow of the ship, the metal glowing brilliant red-orange.

"What in the world...?"

The airship shook, the tube glowing brilliant purple. He staggered backwards, blinded, as the hillside below him burned brighter than the sun.

* * *

A second keening detonation rocked the cell. Suki stood, hand against the stone. She looked more than a little terrified.

"Mai, are you sure this is- um, safe?"

Mai just nodded and waited. It took about half an hour. Once, a pair of guards rushed by, but they didn't stop. After the tenth concussion, a rain of stones fell from the ceiling, and with a creak, the grating fell free from its moorings, crashing to the floor.

"Well, ladies? Shall we?"

Mai led the way as they piled into the hallway outside. The corridor was canted at a peculiar angle, the metal floor warped and distorted. The gas lamps had burnt out, the only light provided by the luminescent stones that protruded here and there from the ceiling. It looked to Mai like the hallway sloped upwards to the left. Judging by the number of other cell doors, they were in one of the prison areas in the bunkers deep beneath the Capital. Wordlessly, she led the way. The hall was completely free of guards, and there was a peculiar acrid smell in the air, like hot rock dust. They rounded a corner, and a looming pit of blackness opened up before them. The hall had been bisected by a blast from the _Phoenix Lord_; a vertical cone of melted stone, plunging straight downwards. The adjoining walls of the hall were rippled and glassy, and she could feel the heat radiating off the metal floor. Ever so carefully, she leaned into the pit and looked down. Deep below was a pit of glowing semi-liquid stone. Above were distant stars, and the ruins of several other hallways that had been laid bare by the jet of superheated gas. A thin rain of ash descended from above. The air was unpleasantly hot and bone-dry, with a strange acidity to it. Her nose wrinkled as she inhaled- it smelled like the interior of a glassblower's workshop. There was a flash of purple light from above, another shrill keening explosion, and the earth shook.

"Okay. We need to get to that hallway two levels up. Ty Lee, can you make it?"

The acrobat quickly took stock of the scale of the crater.

"Well, the walls are nice and sloped so I should be just fine! Suki, do you still have that rope?"

The Kiyoshi Islander nodded, pulling a sash off her waist. After she'd picked a few seams free, it unravelled into a skein of thin, strong cord almost thirty meters long. The acrobat quickly tied one end about her waist, securing the other to a bracket in the wall that had once held a gas lamp.

"Great! Wish me luck, everyone!"

With that, Ty Lee had thrown herself into the corridor, legs pumping furiously as she ran around the circumference of the crater, slowly spiralling her way upwards. She leaped across the door of one ruined hallway, barely losing any momentum as she continued her upwards path. Then, abruptly, she'd disappeared into the hallway Mai had indicated. The rope went taut, and she poked her head out of the ruined doorway high above.

"Everything's secure on my end! Climb on up!"

Mai had had her doubts about Ty Lee, especially in a situation this uncommonly risky. Now she supposed she needn't have worried.

* * *

Al stopped pedalling, wincing as sweat ran over his cuts. They were making good progress. He'd left Gaoling with Ed, a crudely assembled cart, and a suit of clanky, improvised armour. Now he was riding a sort of tricycle-cart, its razor-thin sky iron frame pared down to almost nothing. He'd bound his cracked ribs with the tunic they'd given him on the _Wind Chariot_. Atop his head was a conical straw hat, perfect for keeping the sun out of his eyes. He'd bought it from a somewhat confused farmer in a rice field, along with some rice and a skin of water, in exchange for a lump of gold the size of his fist. The dressings on his hands were stained red, the burnt skin painful against the handlebars. But Ed was all right. His brother had spent most of the time since Gaoling asleep in the back of the cart, recovering from whatever the Airbender and the Firebender had done to him. He occasionally coughed up a little blood, but his breathing was getting much more regular and strong.

As the tricycle rolled to a stop in the lee of a spreading pine, Al took a swig of water, experimentally flexing his hands. The pain came and went. If he hadn't had the cart, though... he'd never really appreciated the mundane utility of alchemy before. Over the past day, he'd made himself transport, shelter and the means to purchase food from _nothing_. The Alchemists of Amestris were so limited in that respect. They saw their abilities as something higher and more refined- weapons or scientific instruments, when what they really were were _tools_.

His musings on applied alchemy were interrupted by the realization that he'd stopped quite close to one of the carved stone pillars that passed for milestones in the Earth Kingdom. The inscription read simply 'Bo', and then a distance, which his brain told him was somewhere in the area of three kilometers. Well, no point in stopping now.

His plan was simply to fade into the background. He'd seen Earth Kingdom coinage at the Rumble, and it had been a simple matter to convert the spare metal of the cart into a jangling pocketful of coins. Next, he needed a post office. He'd been surprised to learn that much of the Earth Kingdom peasantry was literate, and mail was a common thing- he'd been passed by several mail coaches drawn by large flightless birds, hiding the tricycle in the bushes as they rumbled past. Five minutes later, he left Ed and the cart in a cave he dug out on the outskirts of Bo, then headed into town, straw hat pulled low. Twenty minutes after that, he was leaving town with several light blankets, a basket of vegetables, a pot of ointment for burns and cuts, two pairs of tinted black spectacles, and a tub of black ink. The clerk at the post office, becoming far more polite when Al handed him a large handful of copper coins, had told him that the stuff was generally used for outdoor signage, and tended to stain. Perfect.

After all the ink was gone, he and Ed sat together, eating a bowl of rice and vegetables. Both of them were seriously weirded out by their new hair colour. Ed had been reluctant to, in his words, 'put on hallowe'en costumes to fit in with the locals', but he rapidly and somewhat vainly demurred when Al pointed out that the dye job would grow out and that people with a back-length black braid looked pretty cool and badass. Thus, Al had resolved the hair-colour problem. Next were the eyes. Yellow-brown was a Fire Nation eye colour. Not exactly welcome in the Earth Kingdom. He hadn't expected glassware to be so prominent, but apparently the merchants had no compunctions about reselling goods from the (apparently) newly-peaceful Fire Nation. And the Fire Nation had the best glassblowers in the world. Or so he'd heard. The spectacles didn't fit either of them well, but they were sufficient to cover their eyes. And lastly came the issue of skin tone. Ed solved that one, between huge, coughing gulps of rice.

"A sunburn is a sunburn no matter who you are. And the Earth Kingdom is pretty damn sunny."

* * *

Mai ducked behind a bulkhead as a spattering gout of burning fuel roared past her. They were... suffering some difficulties. Moving closer to the surface and away from the blast zone had brought them into more well-patrolled territory, and news was obviously spreading that they'd escaped. The end result was that the Ember Group had abandoned all pretence of capturing them and was just trying to murder them instead. Unless they had developed some sort of miraculously non-lethal flamethrower, which Mai very much doubted. The three of them had begun to hit wave after wave of the steam-armoured heavy troopers, and their upwards progress was slowing fast. She supposed they could probably retreat back down to the impact crater, but if pursued they'd be sitting ducks while they made the long, slow climb up and out. No way to go but forwards, then. There was another gushing of flame and Suki rolled into the space next to her, green battledress singed and scorched. Mai indicated the collapsed body of another heavy trooper within arms reach, and Suki nodded. They seized the corpse and hauled it upright, using its heavy plating as a shield against the flames. Blood from the knife wounds all across the body dripped onto her as she lugged it forwards, leaning into the flames. She, Suki and Ty Lee had also been forced to resort to desperate measures, and her red robes were dripping as a result. Fire boiled around them and Mai knew that if- when- she got out of this, she'd have a truly atrocious sunburn.

She heard a choked gasp, the pitter-patter of light feet, and Ty Lee kicked off her shoulder, soaring above them and the onrushing flames. The stream of fire stopped as the soldier tried to redirect it towards her, but he was too late. Ty Lee folded about him in a spidery chokehold, spiking her fingers into the unarmoured area at the base of his neck. The soldier went limp, dropping the flamethrower and collapsing to the ground.

The rest of the fallen soldier's sqaud- all ordinary soldiers, stepped up, crossbows raised. Suki dropped the body and sprang forwards, circular shield in hand. They opened fire, and she deflected the crossbow bolts with contemptuous ease, explosions bursting around her as she recoiled from the force of the detonations. A little sweet-talking from Ty Lee and some punches from Suki had gotten them access to a weapons locker where their gear was stored.

Mai crouched behind Ty Lee, letting the Kiyoshi Warrior take the hits while she returned fire with her rope darts. They were slick with blood, the wire-centered cords kinked and bent from repeated impacts with metal, skin and bone. There was a cough of agony as she withdrew the darts, and the quiet sound of bodies hitting the floor as Ty Lee landed among them. Mai stood, just in time to see one of the soldiers drop one of the small hand explosives they were so fond of using. The grenade clinked distinctively as it rolled along the metal floor. Ty Lee was on it in an instant.

"Oh no you _don't_!", she screeched, kicking the grenade hard. It hit one wall, bounced off the rough ceiling, then careened around a bulkhead further up the hall. There was an instant of panicked swearing, then an explosion, and silence. Mai grabbed Ty Lee by the shoulder before she could investigate.

"Hold on", she breathed, "we don't know if they're actually dead."

There was a metallic noise from behind them, accompanied by a grunt of exertion. Suki shouldered them aside, staggering under the weight of the flamethrower.

"I am sick," she hissed, hefting it.

"And tired," she growled, raising it.

"Of being on the wrong end of these!" She roared, pulling a lever and advancing around the bulkhead. Gouts of fuel bathed the corridor. All was silent save for the _whoosh _of flames and the sloshing of the fuel. The air filled with the sickening smell of charred meat. She dropped the flamethrower and turned to look back at them, her dirty, blood-streaked face paint glowing ruddily in the light of the fires. Her eyes were like stones. Mai had seen that face before- in the old paintings and carvings of Avatar Kiyoshi.

"What?", Suki growled, "You guys may be all about your knife tricks and fancy acrobatics, but I am a Daughter of Kiyoshi. We fight to stay alive. And if that means turning the enemy's weapons against them..."

Leaning down, she grabbed a belt of grenades from a fallen soldier, slinging it over one shoulder. Then she found one of the compact Ember Group crossbows. She cocked it with a _ch-chunk_. A spring snapped and the magazine of bolts clattered on the floor. She stared for a few seconds at the broken weapon then threw it aside in disgust.

"Oh Kiyoshi damn it."

Ty Lee stifled a giggle.

* * *

With no little effort, Si opened one eye. He couldn't move the other. He tensed one hand gingerly. It moved. Slowly, he turned his head. His neck seemed to be working, although he could feel the automatic blocks implanted in his subconscious suppressing a truly staggering amount of pain. It was like having a a shard of glass buried deep in his skull- it was sharp and painful, but he could treat it carefully and it wouldn't affect him. Ever so carefully, he began to sit up, feeling his breath rasping in his lungs. The inside of his mouth felt burnt. The pain intensified, but he could still move. Nothing seemed to be broken, but every part of him seemed to be injured in some way or another. Carefully, he looked around. The observation platform was slightly canted, the deckplates split by the explosion of several steam lines. Most of the exposed surfaces were scorched or otherwise burnt. Everything was covered in a thin layer of greasy ash. The metal beneath him felt hot and sticky, but as he moved he realized that was just how his burnt skin felt. He looked at his hands. Second-degree burns just about everywhere. Almost third-degree in a few places. It was a wonder he could move them. He stood, uncomfortably aware of the smell emanating from his parboiled carcass. His right eye still wouldn't open. Gingerly, he felt his face, fingers wrapping around a thumb-sized piece of what might be telescope lens protruding from his right brow. His hand came back slick with slightly dried blood. That- that explained a great deal. He tried to slow his breathing, feeling the beginnings of shock setting in. He was mentally prepared to resist it, but the pull was still very, very strong.

Now, if he could just get to his harness... breath hissing through blistered lips, he took a heavy step, feeling his burns crackle. Without his mental conditioning, he would have passed out from the pain by now. As it was, he was consciously forcing his body to produce dangerous amounts of adrenaline and endorphins, repeating endless mental mantras to keep himself in a state not entirely dissimilar to a runner's high. Another step. One more. Just one more. And one more after that... Ever so slowly.

His harness was intact, although it was scorched and had fallen off its stand. He fumbled for the armour's medical kit, pulling out a syrette and injecting it into his thigh. He'd need all the numbness he could get for what he had to do next. Moving with overexaggerated delicacy, he shucked the harness on, stepping into it like a pair of overalls. There was just enough pressure left in the system to start the boiler and activate the hydraulics. He dialled the weight support system to the highest setting. Taking a deep breath, he chinned the activation panel, the gesture leaving a thin layer of scorched skin behind on the controls. With a _hiss_, the harness activated, the chestplate folding over his torso and arms and legs clamping down. His breath caught in his throat as the system began to absorb his weight, the padded inserts clamping vice-like over his burnt body.

Fifteen minutes later, after a harrowing descent in a barely-functional elevator, he stomped stiffly into the command centre, his harness doing most of the walking for him.

"Report", he rasped.

The chaos in the command centre slowed slightly as people gawped at him. Someone proffered a medical kit and offered to call a doctor, but he waved them away.

"I know how bad it looks," he spat. "Report."

The news, a shaken Attuned airbender explained, wasn't good. The _Phoenix Lord Ozai_ was laying waste to their defences, well outside the range at which they could return fire with projectors. Rockets could reach it, but it just manoeuvred out of the way and let the unguided projectiles splash down. All airship attacks had proved fruitless, as the White Lotus were pressing their offensive, especially in the air. And the worst of it was...

"The Fire Navy." Si exclaimed incredulously.

"Er, no, sir," the Attuned said, wiping sweat off his flushed face, "Not all of it. Just the Home Fleet. Only about twenty battleships with twice that in cruisers and landing craft."

"Sixty ships, even low-technology steamships, are still a threat, especially if they're carrying an army and supported by the White Lotus. But who called them in?"

A runner staggered in, gasping and out of breath.

"M-message for the General from the lower levels," she huffed, hands on her knees.

"Yes?"

"The Fire Lady-"

Si sighed, shaking hi head and wincing as the skin on his neck went _crunch_.

"Has escaped. And of course while she was away on Kiyoshi Island she found a way to gather her forces. Lovely. I knew she was a risk, but calling in a whole _army_...?"

* * *

Out to sea, the fleet was steaming landwards, trailing immense black clouds of in their wake. Sailors on deck marvelled as water Tulpa slipped and rolled through the fleet's bow wake, luminescent beneath the night-time sea. Every few minutes, a blaze of purple light from the _Phoenix Lord Ozai_ lit up the night. Some younger, more rabidly patriotic soldiers claimed the flame was Ozai himself, come to free his nation from the invaders. Others said that the Dragon of the West, the great General Iroh, had tamed a still-living dragon. Their more veteran counterparts muttered quietly about black projects, fifth columns, vast stocks of hidden war materiel and secret weapons intended to restore Fire Nation dominance across the globe. Above all, though, everyone was asking questions. Where was Fire Lord Zuko? Who, exactly, were the Ember Group, and why had they invaded the Capital? Where were the Earth Kingdom and the Water Tribes in the face of a blatant breach of the Armistice? What, by Agni and all the spirits, were the tentacled things in the water and the birdlike shapes circling high above? None of these questions were answered, save by more rumours, but they did not go unrecorded. The fleet was, unbeknownst to the Fire Nation, full of spies, from the Ember Group, the White Lotus, and a half-dozen other interested parties. Messages were being hastily memorized, or shoved through miniature _paifangs_, or dropped overboard in sealed lead canisters in the final minutes of the fleet's approach.

For they were unquestionably final. Si's orders to the BOOM Serpents had been quite clear. A half-and-half mixture of anti-shipping missiles and gas warheads. Sink the ships, poison the crews. The submersibles were scattered across half the immediate ocean, but they were still in touch with each other and very much capable of combat.

The submersibles rose out of the ocean, their widened hulls rock-steady on the ocean swells. Raggedly, but with increasing force, they let out their war cry.

_"UUUUUUUUULLLLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAA!"_

One by one, hatches on sea-swept decks were slowly opened as huge hydraulic arms tilted an array of gigantic rockets skywards. The ocean lit up as the fleet of BOOMers fired, sending their deadly payload skywards. The rockets rose for a few brief seconds, then levelled off, their gyroscopes activating and setting off the final descent stages of their solid-fuelled engines. They didn't even need to be particularly accurate; the size of the fleet and of their warheads ensured that. They were travelling well over the speed of sound when they hit the fleet, sending up a huge curtain of water and spray followed by an ear-splitting _EEEEEEEEKRAKOOOOOOOM_ as the shockwave hit.

For a few seconds, the ruins of the Home Fleet weren't visible in the rising pillar of spray and smoke. Then, gradually, it cleared. And the Fleet continued unscathed. The Tulpa had risen from the depths, swatting the rockets out of the air like insects before retreating beneath the waves and speeding off into the darkness. The BOOMers had played their hand too early, and were now defenceless in the face of the coming onslaught. Some tried to turn, retreating back into the harbour. They weren't fast enough. The water was torn asunder by another wave of detonations as the Ember Group warships were either scuttled by their captains or dragged down to the bottom, where they were literally torn apart. The Home Fleet advanced unopposed.

-~0X0~-

Yay! New content!

As some of you may have noticed, I've gone back and re-written the first three chapters. I don't know how much editing will be done on the subsequent ones, but I think the changes in characterization, dialogue, scene flow and continuity are vast improvements. Re-reading my earlier stuff in-depth was an interesting experience. The concept and premise behind HtE has changed so much since I originally planned it- hell, it was originally going to be a three-way struggle between an entirely Fire Nation Ember Group, the White Lotus, and an Equalist-style Marxist revolution in the Earth Kingdom.

So yeah. The finale of Korra was fooookin' sweeeeeet. And as is normally the case with summertime, this will probably be the last whole new chapter until September. Documents and potential chapter edits to follow. Ciao.


	19. XIV- We Need to Survive

Al leaned comfortably against a lamp post, slowly sipping a cup of cheap tea and watching the world go by. What a peculiar month this had been. They'd arrived in the former Fire Nation colony of Quiyan as homeless nobodies with pocketfuls of alchemically-created gold, and now they were... well, very well-informed nobodies with pocketfuls of alchemically-created gold. Fading into the background seemed to be working.

If anyone had ever needed to disappear from the eyes of the world completely, Quiyan was the place to do it. Technically administered by the Fire Nation, the city was in actual fact one of the old haunts of the Privateer's Guild, and as a result was practically a small, independent nation in its own right. There was a Fire Nation-appointed governor, to be sure, but he was content to sit back and let the bribes roll in as the various factions of the Guild ruled their own little fiefdoms. Ed and Al were just two among more than a million refugees, deserters, criminals, merchants and adventurers of all types. The fractured groups of the Guild had been waging gang warfare for control of the wealthy port city for so long the place had achieved a sort of pseudo-status quo, almost stable in its constant state of bustling, ultracompetetive semi-anarchy.

They'd found a house almost immediately- or rather, a sprawling, semi-dilapidated warehouse with very high walls and very sturdy doors, and settled in to watch and wait. After paying a bevy of 'special taxes', 'tariffs' and 'protection fees', of course. And then Al had begun to invest, in the currency that drove all of Quiyan. Information. The merchants needed it to stay afloat. The crime syndicates relied on it to keep ahead of the competition. The arrival of any new ship (or, increasingly, airship) in-port meant a massive boom in business for the dozens of news agencies, information brokers, their employees besieging sailors, crew and especially passengers for news, rumours, and even the latest gossip. With more than 30 newspapers printed daily, it was no wonder that Quiyan was said to be the only city in the world paved in paper. All Al had to do was pay for regular briefs from a variety of the more competent organizations, and sit back as the news flowed in in neat, creamy envelopes of clippings, briefs and transcriptions.

He and Ed had followed the news of the Retaking of the Capital, seen sketches of the huge airships fleets pouring out of the Capital, read reports on the mechanical marvels left behind in the scorched, ruined city. The general consensus of the information brokers was that someone was at war with someone else, but no one was entirely sure _who_. The sides or the motives weren't clear, but one thing was; they were beating the _shit _out of each other. The attack on the Fire Nation was just one part of a larger puzzle. There was the curiously nonlethal attack on the Northern Water Tribe. The disappearance of most of the Earth Kingdom's troops in the area of the Si Wong Desert. King Bumi's increasingly sporadic calls for calm. The bizarre lights and earthquakes in the mountains around Omashu. Zuko and Aang had apparently disappeared after what had happened in Gaoling. But that wasn't all. From all over the world came reports of the Unidentified Warring Objects. Fleets of submarines engaging squidlike monstrosities at the South Pole. Moving mountains spitting fire at airships in the Fire Nation. Tanks the size of houses firing rockets at gigantic birds in the Si Wong. All of that, combined with the total disappearance of the Order of the White Lotus from public life.

"Good morning, Mister Laorei."

Al started at the soft voice, turning to bow politely to the young Waterbender who'd materialized out of the passing crowds.

"Yakone, I'm fairly sure it's late in the afternoon. And please don't sneak up on me."

The flashy young man smiled coldly, readjusting the collar of his expensive suit.

"Sneak up on you, Mister Laorei? Hardly. It's your fault if you don't have the chops to pick out a man in a crowd. And I feel that the day truly begins at dusk- Nightlife is so much more _exciting_, wouldn't you agree?"

Al rolled his eyes, looking away from the gangster's heavy-browed visage. Just because Yakone was one of the more reasonably polite criminals in Quiyan didn't mean he wasn't a creep. He'd been one of the first to approach them when they'd bought the warehouse, and had been very impolite until Ed showed him exactly what one of his new Elric Rifles. After that they'd developed a working relationship. Or at least Al had. Ed was... never mind.

"Aaaaand suddenly I've lost my appetite for this tea. Why are you here, Yakone. We've paid our 'rent surcharge' in gold. On time. As usual."

The gangster flicked open a small knife and began cleaning his fingernails methodically. The fact that the Waterbender went basically unarmed, without even a waterskin, showed that he was either ridiculously overconfident or justifiably so. Either way, he was dangerous. When he spoke, his face was entirely neutral, and he kept his voice pitched low so the passers-by couldn't hear them.

"The Guild has... come into possession of a member of the Ember Group."

Al went rigid. The very fact that Yakone was using that name meant that whatever this was out of the ordinary. No one knew much about the Group, save that they were on one side of the conflict, and that they were _dangerous_.

"What?"

Yakone clapped a hand on his shoulder conspiratorially, and Al recoiled.

"Listen, 'Ao Laorei', I know you've got a secret."

Al set the teacup down, and slowly brought his hands together, ready to activate his alchemy. _Shit. Shit shit shit._

"...The excessive wealth. The _obviously_ assumed names. You're not wealthy refugees, or information brokers either."

Al felt a spark of static electricity jump between his palms. Using Alchemy in a public place wouldn't be remotely sane, but he had no choice. Kill Yakone, get Ed, and _run_.

"I don't have the first fuckin' clue _what_ you are, but I know this. You're an obviously interested party, and you can afford what I'm selling. Namely, an in on the meeting. Strictly off the books. Security's tighter than it's ever been. If anyone found out I was letting you in, they'd have my balls in a steel trap. Six thousand gold pieces, Fire Nation currency, to cover all the favours I need to call in- and you're there."

Al breathed a sigh of relief. They were safe. And this was the opportunity of a lifetime. The Guild in question wasn't a full meeting of the leadership of the Privateers; it was just a gathering of the local Quiyan leadership. That said, those four men and women were tremendously powerful. Normally they would sooner have each other assassinated than cooperate, but the ongoing conflict and the threat of- of whatever the Ember Group was made all their petty squabbles pale in comparison.

"Okay, Yakone, I'm in. Come in for a cup of tea while I get the money ready? Edo's gonna want to hear all about this."

The gangster snorted derisively, crossing his arms.

"Really," he said, eyes wide in mock disbelief, "You spend the last few minutes tensing up to kill me and then suddenly we're like family? You're a weird one, Mister Laorei."

Al just stared at him, wondering (not for the first time) why the man was so difficult to read. Oh, he could see he'd clawed his way to the top. That he was ambitious to the point of obsession. Al didn't need hired informants to know that Yakone had the ear of _Ataata _Uumalaq. Everyone knew the wealthy old crime boss was grooming Yakone for a position of power. No, the strange thing about Yakone was that he seemed to be hiding a secret. Secrets were copper-a-dozen in Quiyan, but Yakone's was different. This was a secret he was constantly resisting the urge to tell everyone about. Whatever it was, it added a whole new level to the gangster's swaggering bravado.

He beckoned the gangster down a nearby alleyway, nodding to the homeless man sitting hunched in a bundle of rags at the opening. Yakone, nose wrinkling at the smell of decay that filled the space, stepped gingerly over the vagrant's oustretched sandal-clad legs.

"Friend of yours?" he inquired sarcastically, "You keep a very clean alleyway."

Al stopped, looking back at the rag-clad man rising to his feet, sword drawn. He shook his head, ever so slightly. The vagrant sat back down, sheathing his blade in complete silence.

"Myugen may no look like much, but he's a reliable doorman," Al said, turning his attention to a nondescript door in the wall of the warehouse that made up one side of the alley. A heavy, rusted padlock hung from an equally rusted lock. He pulled the lock aside, and the boards of the door came with it, revealing a heavy slab of metal beneath it. He rubbed his hands together, then pressed one palm flat against the doorway. With a soft, electrical _hiss_, the metal slid to one side. The door was fully three feet thick. Yakone whistled.

"Damn, Mister Laorei. What're you hiding in here?"

Al waited until the door had fully opened, checking that the thin lines of alchemical runes along the lintel were functioning properly. It had taken an entire week of solid work by Ed to get the construction/reconstruction arrays working well enough to literally melt away a block of solid steel. Thankfully, they'd chosen a relatively bender-free neighbourhood, or people would have noticed. 'the consequences of a mischoice could have been catastrophic, especially during those three hectic days where Ed was experimenting with weaponized Von Neumann arrays, and-

Yakone cleared his throat. Al started.

"Right. Come on in."

* * *

Around him, the Southern Air Temple burned. Aang sat on a comfortable cushion, a steaming mug of tea in his hand. The air was full of screaming, raw and hoarse. Gyatso held out a tray of fruit tarts.

"Want one? They'll help you stay sane."

Aang frowned. No, this wasn't right. Everything (wasn't) was fine. He was (wasn't) in danger. And Gyatso was (dead) alive. Gyatso sighed, small clockworks tearing out of his face as the walls of the Air Temple crumbled away into an endless row of corpses.

"You're right, I'm afraid," he said, voice soft and calm as internal fires tore at his corpse. "This is just your subconscious mind attempting to create a fantasy world in which your psyche can take refuge from the massively invasive trauma it is currently undergoing. Unfortunately, you didn't hide deeply enough. And they've just found you again."

The screaming was closer now. Aang stood, trailing tubing and pipeworks that tugged at his skin.

"Hold on," he protested, choking on his own vomit, "what-"

Gyatso chewed a fruit tart meditatively, his nightmare face distorting fractally.

"Sorry, Aang, but this is going to hurt a _lot_. Upping primary ego inhibitors by fifteen percent, dropping painkiller mixture to blue to compensate. Mesmeric pulse on my mark. Mark."

The temple (those were Airbender bodies) faded away, and Aang found himself hanging suspended in a dark hellscape of pipes, many of them protruding from his body. There was something in his mouth- something sharp and metallic, carrying with it the taste of blood. He was blinded by a strobing pulse of painfully bright light. They were holding his eyelids open. He couldn't look away. The screaming was so close. Where was it coming from?

Then the pain hit him, and through a blood-streaked haze he realized the tortured sound was coming from his own throat.

* * *

Yakone leaned back in his chair, putting his feet up on the table. Al had to resist the urge to snap at him.

"That," the gangster said, face impassive, "is a lot of weapons."

Al gave Ed a significant glance. His brother shrugged, barely even looking up from the thin metal tube he was rifling into a barrel. Yakone wasn't wrong. It _was _a lot. And therein was the problem. Their home was rapidly becoming an armoury, all at the hands of an increasingly insular Ed. Al hated to admit it, but his brother was becoming worryingly paranoid. He'd lost a lot of the brash directness that once made him run head-first into danger. In some ways, he was starting to act more like Al. And seeing his own behaviour in his brother worried Al far more than he would have cared to admit. Since their arrival in Quiyan, Ed had been increasingly building weapons. No, not building. Slaving over weapons. Had Ed been working on alchemical formulae, or even research, he wouldn't be worried. But Ed was outright inventing, refining and testing weapons. Weapons he insisted he would need, someday. After one long night of increasingly furious arguments, he'd made his position clear.

"Al," he'd said, voice dull and tired, but eyes alive with... it could almost have been fear, "they sent a tank after us. That was their _first try_. Who know what it will escalate to next? Poison gas? Carpet bombing? Giant robots?"

Al had stifled a laugh at that, nonetheless remembering the huge, oddly organic constructs in Gaoling. He still hadn't told Ed about them- something about the way they died. The way they tore themselves to pieces, keening in supernatural agony as they did. It had disturbed him to his core. He'd witnessed the horrors of human alchemy, but there was something even more profoundly unnatural about witnessing those same horrors applied on a much vaster, more alien scale.

Ed had slammed his fist down on the table, scattering brass casings. His face was calm and determined, his voice a low growl.

"For _gott_'s sakes, Al, we need to survive. That is what the Truth told us, and as far as I'm concerned It is the only real friend we've had since we began this fucking 'adventure'."

Al had just stared at him, completely taken aback. He- in a twisted, paranoiac way, he was _right_.

"I know I started this project to 'help our new friends', but it's not about them anymore. They're probably dead. Forget them. If you want to go galivanting off to save a world you have no stake in, go ahead. I won't stop you. Just remember that this is about _us._ It's about _keeping us safe._ And if that means weapons, if it means sacrifice, if it means killing, then so be it."

Yakone was speaking again.

"So. All these- whaddaya call 'em- Riffles? Ripples?"

"Rifles," Ed grunted. "They're called rifles. And they're still not for sale, not matter what _Atatta _Uumalaq is willing to pay us."

Yakone nodded slowly, face blank.

"Whole lotta killing power for two people."

Ed just nodded and kept working, scraping away at the barrel. He was paler than usual, skin pockmarked with specks of powder. Al knew he hadn't changed clothes in several days, and he wasn't entirely sure if Ed had slept either.

"Yakone," Al said softly, sitting opposite his brother, "Tell Edo what you told me."

The gangster took his feet off the table and began toying with his nails once more.

"Hells, I'll give you the whole story. So _Ataata _Uumalaq owns this club, right? Real classy joint uptown. Nice big bar, a good band, pleasure girls, the works. Well, thre days ago we hear tell there's been some sort of dust-up at the place. Explosions, screaming, fire, the usual. We assumed it was probably that fuckin' crazy Fire Nation slut Baola Laoka and her fuckin' army goons maybe trying to make a hit on some of our guys, yeah? Trying to restart the turf war that wound down a few years back. So me an' a bunch of the other foot soldiers go to check the place out. Ominous as fuck, lemme tell ya. From the outside, place looks fine. Windows intact, no burn marks, no nothing. Too clean for 'Colonel' Baola and her strict-ass one-two-three-scorched-earth-sir gang. So we go inside. And Sedna, lemme tell you..."

He paused, staring at nothing. There was a hollowness, a blankness to his features that he'd been hiding, but suddenly the force of his trauma was showing through. He wasn't lying.

"Place was a fuckin' slaughterhouse. The attack happened at maybe ten, eleven o'clock at night. Real boom time. Place had been packed. And they'd- they'd gone in there with some sort of bomb-thrower. The bitch who did it still had it. Little crossbow-lookin' thing, tossed grenades on spikes as fast as you could pull the handle. And- there was _meat _everywhere. People just ripped to paste. I've seen what a Waterbender can do to a person- I've don- I've seen some shit, okay. But this was fuckin' barbaric. Only two survivors. One guy, a firebender, had to cauterize what was left of his leg to stop from bleeding out. Poor bastard. Almost bit off his own tongue. The other was the fucker that did it. Nondescript looking bitch, lemme tell you. Wearin' this armour made her look like a fuckin' pinecone, just sitting there covered in blood and actually- can you believe it- fuckin' _whistling_. Like she didn't have a care in the world. I wanted to blow her head clean off for what she'd done- maybe teach her a lesson or two first- but then _Ataata_ arrived. You know him. Real friendly guy. Family man. Good with kids."

He was almost talking to himself, his voice a low monotone.

"Lemme tell you, I have never seen Uumalaq that _angry _before. I've seen him kill families in cold blood, I've seen him send men to their deaths on a whim, but this was something different. He had her taken down to the warehouses where we- we- anyways. Wanted to _talk_ to her personally. We get her helmet off, and would you fuckin' believe she's got Airbender tattoos? I mean Sedna, man. Respect for the dead..."

Ed stared into Al's eyes, and mouthed 'airbender?'. Good. He was thinking the same thing. The Ember Group woman who'd tried to take on Aang.

* * *

Aang sat on the cot in his cell, staring at the moss on the walls. There was some sort of complicated system of piping behind the fuzzy green carpet, one that kept the whole room cool and fresh-smelling. The small portholes in the ceiling through which sunlight seemed to be shining were another matter entirely. Not for the first time, he wished he had his bending. Or the Avatar State. But no, he was locked in his own head, his control over the elements utterly nonexistent. At least they'd stopped- whatever it was they had done. It was odd. He could coldly and clinically review the intrusions on his body and mind, and the screaming, and the hours of never-ending, retina-burning flashing lights, but thinking about them gave him- nothing. He'd expected to be crying himself to sleep. To be in denial. But no, it had happened, and he was all right. For some reason. The fact that he was being remarkably clam about it was worrying.

There was a step at the door, and it swung silently open on well-oiled hinges. The guard stepped in- an Airbender. Or at least a man in Airbender tattoos. He'd been polite, if curt, with Aang, refusing to answer questions or even begin to make conversation. Three times a day, he brought Aang food, and he'd provided him with a sponge, bucket of warm water and clean clothes twice since the end of the- Aang's time in the machine. Judging by when the lights in the cieling dimmed, he'd been here around five days. They'd even provided him with reading material- reproductions of old philosophical and historical texts by authors from all four nations. Nothing suspicious, nothing dangerous.

The guard stepped to one side, and in crept, hesitantly, a dark-skinned young woman, her scalp shaved almost-

"Oh spirits," Aang gasped. "Katara?"

Her eyes widened, filling with tears.

"Aang?", she said hoarsely. "You're alive?"

They held each other in silence for a long, long time.

* * *

The meeting was set to take place in a club belonging to the Bald Man. The mysterious information broker was also, apparently, a fan of drinking establishments, albeit of the moodily-lit, highly minimalist variety. When they'd arrived, the place had been bustling with the security details of the four major criminal (though they would disagree with that nomenclature) groups of Quiyan. Things had quieted down since then, but armed men and women were still very much in evidence. Yakone had handed a jangling bag of coin to a guard, who let them in a side entrance and bolted the door behind them. Good thing he hadn't checked them over. Al knew that Ed was carrying a truly bewildering array of weapons, from several small pistols to a bulky, roughly-constructed shot-pistol holstered in one boot. Now they sat in a darkened booth with a good view of the main hall- a depressed area built around a glass-covered rock garden. A high skylight cast clear, bright moonlight over the proceedings, the gloom elsewhere only fitfully pierced by a few luminescent stone sconces. Yakone indicated the long table set up at the far end of the hall.

"Look," he said in a whisper, "Baldie's already here."

The florid, well-dressed man in a dark suit slowly surveyed the room, his eyes an unnaturally piercing blue. Then he turned, starting as the doors were flung open and even more guards poured in, followed by the three remaining members of the Quiyan council. Yakone kept up a running commentary.

"Baola Laoka. Deserted from some sort of Fire Nation intelligence group," he said of the tall, scarred woman. "All her men are ex-military. Utterly fucked in the head, but at least she's a professional."

Ed grunted softly to himself. "Reminds me of General Armstrong."

Next was a short, haughty-looking woman with an unornamented longsword strapped over her white silk dress.

"Izshii Aorin. Claims she's royalty. Really just an Earth Kingdom slut putting on airs. Started off as a streetwalker, worked her way up. She _loathes_ Baola. Always says she'll take the Colonel's head with that fancy katana of hers. Got a temper like a platypus bear in heat."

The woman's black-clad bodyguards settled into various positions around the room, their swords obvious ("Who the fuck needs 77 bodyguards? Honestly. Crazy bitch.") According to Yakone, it had been decided that all arms were permitted. The time for feuding had passed.

Lastly, surrounded by a posse of flashily-dressed Water Tribesmen, came a sprightly-looking old man with deep-set eyes and a pouchy, fish-like face.

"_Ataata _Uumalaq. Leader of the Crimson Monsoons."

Uumalaq sat slowly, waving his entourage away. He glanced down the table, receiving various affirmative gestures from the other three, and began to speak. As his hoarse, deep voice resounded throughout the club, Al realized that every booth was _packed_. This was more than just the leading four. This was everyone who was _anyone_ in Quiyan.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to take the time to thank you for attending this little gathering. It gladdens me greatly that the organizations and families can put aside their differences and work towards a resolution of the present situation. Before we begin I'd like to give my special thanks to the Bald Man, who has so kindly lent us the use of this charming institution."

He nodded down the table. The Bald Man nodded back, but didn't say a word.

"Now, then. Let's being. Bring her in, gentlemen."

There was a clattering of chains, and several burly men dragged in a bound figure.

"I feel it necessary to point out that the armour was riveted on to her. We've had no luck removing it and I thought it prudent to keep her... relatively unharmed."

"A wise decision," the Bald Man said, his voice sibilant and cold.

"Let's get on with it," muttered Izshii in irritated tones.

"Happy to oblige," a sneering voice rang out. There was a smiling, cheerful quality to it that was utterly fake. Utterly constructed. The chained woman in the centre of the dance floor looked up, her bearing erect and confident despite the masses of chains holding her down and the overlapping plates of her body armour. Al gasped. Ed glanced at her, then back at him. A murmur rolled around the room. Airbender tattoos. It was the woman from Gaoling. The Airbender. And no one here knew she was genuine.

"Yakone...", he said, slowly rising from his seat. But the Airbender was still speaking.

"My name isn't hugely important at the moment, so I'll skip that little bit of useless small talk. I work for an organization which calls itself the Ember Group. We are currently engaged in military operations against the extra-dimensional- what you would call Spirit World- arm of the Order of the White Lotus. We are responsible for the razing of the Northern Water Tribe, the attempts on Fire Lord Zuko's life, the destruction of Earth Kingdom forces in the Si Wong, and the failed overthrow of the Fire Nation Capital. I am telling you this because you are already dead."

Baola was on her feet, long coat swirling about her.

"Ma'am," she barked, voice curt, "I'd think someone in your current position wouldn't-"

"How long's it been, Laoka? Eighteen years since the Hill Country campaign?"

The Colonel went rigid, the colour draining from her face. The Airbender grinned ferally, continuing in her falsely-friendly tones.

"You told him you'd come back. You told all of them. I mean..."

Here she laughed absently to herself, pale eyes utterly without feeling.

"... leaving your entire platoon to die is one thing. But abandoning the father of your child? And they gave you a _medal_? Sit DOWN, Laoka. You haven't _earned _the right to speak."

Baola collapsed into her seat, her face gray, breathing ragged. The Airbender giggled with genuine pleasure.

"No more interruptions, please! Anyways, the reason this has all happened is, well... we made a mistake. We were on the path to world domination. One world government and all that. Destabilize the already unstable Fire Nation through assassination. Force the NWT into paranoid isolation. Weaken the military might of the Earth Kingdom, then start a popular uprising against that schizophrenic pederast they call a king. It just so happens the White Lotus came along and ruined all that."

She cracked her neck carefully, the noise resounding in the dead silence.

"So, where do you come in? Quite simply, you've been nosy. Prying. Justifiably curious, I'm sure. We can't allow it. So we're here for a direct takeover. You give us what we want, and we'll make sure things go smoothly. For you."

Uumalaq sat forwards, glancing with apparent nonchalance at the rings on his fingers. Al could read the tension in his shoulders. And _Gott_, the fear.

"So you mean to take over out respective organizations? Madam, I'm sure you can guess our response."

The Airbender nodded.

"Of course. That's why we've had your entire immediate family executed. And why Izshii's bank vaults are empty. And why Baola's guards outside have had their throats slit."

The silence reasserted itself, broken only by a faint creaking noise. The chains dropped off the Airbender's armour, falling to the floor with a resounding crash.

"Pneumatic armour. So _useful_. We commence chemical bombardment in three minutes. Ladies and gentlemen, the Ember Group wins."

Laoka got to her feet, her arms wreathed in halos of golden-yellow flame. She coughed, expression confused as blood poured from her opened throat. The Bald Man tucked the knife back inside his sleeve, then waved a pudgy hand. The club was filled with soft choking noises and the dull thud of bodies hitting the floor. The black-clad guards were pulled into the shadows, where blades flashed silently. Al felt a cold, agonizing pressure pull back on his neck. He was yanked to his feet, unable to even gurgle as he clawed at the steel cord over his throat. There was a rustle of cloth from Yakone's direction, a peculiar wet bubbling noise, and the pressure eased as a soft weight fell over Al's shoulders. He hefted the body onto the table, glancing about the booth. Only one attacker. Ed had already pulled a gun, sweeping it with some indecision over the surrounding gloom. Yakone lowered his hands and dusted himself off.

"Obviously, they weren't expecting more than one. Don't get up. Let's see where this is going."

Izshii had made a rush for the exit, only to find herself surrounded by a group of armed figures who'd dropped from the rafters. Judging by the screams and flashes of metal from the little knot of people around her, she was holding her own.

Uumalaq was rooted in his seat, hands scrabbling at his throat. He had gone a peculiar shade of purple, and seemed to be choking as the Airbender slowly approached him.

"I just collapsed your lungs," she drawled casually. "Enjoy choking to death on your own blood."

Something huge and metallic came crashing through the skylight, pulverizing the rock garden in a shower of glass. The Bald Man extended a hand to the Airbender, still managing to look unconcerned.

"I'm gratified we could come to an agreement. The Ember Group will not regret this decision."

"Yeah. Sure.", the Airbender said, sidestepping quickly. Something on the _thing_ in the rock garden went _twang_, and the Bald Man's torso exploded into a froth of shredded viscera. He blinked, tottering unsteadily forwards.

"We- we had a deal," he gurgled, blood pouring from his lips. The room resounded with the sound of whirring gears and a hiss of steam as a towering mechanical figure unfolded itself in the garden, pipes along its back and legs glowing red-hot. Its blank faceplate surveyed the broken informant as he collapsed to his knees, somehow still alive. The machine took a step forwards, bladelike mechanical leg rising with a _hiss_ and descending with a _crunch_. At the sound, the horrified knots of assassins throughout the club, many still spattered with the blood of Izshii, scattered. The machine raised its arms, and began firing indiscriminately into the crowd.

-~0X0~-

Torture! Crime! Lung collapsings! Descents into paranoid schizophrenia! Huzzah!

I wrote this over the summer, but my school schedule has been waaaaay busier this year, so it took a while to transcribe over from paper. It's a bit shorter than some, but as you can probably tell things are building up...

EDIT: December, 2012. I've added a few bits that got cut out and finished some edits on chapter 4. Chapter 15 to follow.


	20. XV- A House of Ill Repute

In a few moments, it was over. The agents of the Bald Man were slaughtered as swiftly as their leader had been. Yakone made a soft choking noise. Al realized he was crying.

_"Ataata_- no. No there's no way he's dead. No, that- that's not possible. NO!"

He reeled to his feet, fingers curved forwards like claws, eyes blank and wide. A wet growling noise rumbled in his chest, and he stalked towards the Airbender, feet stomping against the glass floor. The machine raised its weapon arm. There was a _clunk_, followed a moment later by a soft spattering sound as an explosive bolt took Yakone's arm off. He tottered, still on his feet. Al felt bile rise in his throat. Yakone was still moving, almost at a run now. He brought his remaining hand around, howling incoherently, and suddenly the Airbender's feet were off the ground, limbs straining, wrenched backwards as if by some invisible force. The air filled with a faint throbbing, rushing noise, like water moving rapidly through pipes. She keened in pain, back bending impossibly far as her body crumpled. There was a _pop_, and she dropped to the floor, shrieking in pain. Another bolt ended Yakone. The machine stood alone amongst the carnage, apparently contemplating the broken body of the still-screaming Airbender as she writhed limply among the ruined rock garden. Then it spoke.

"Consider your failures repaid, Sangmu Tsenpo," it rumbled, breaking her neck with a delicate stomp of one huge, blade-toed foot. Then it craned its back upwards, peering stiff-backed through the broken ceiling at the night sky above. A brilliant light flickered a few times on one shoulder, and without further ado it strode out of the ruined bar by going straight through one of the walls, its massive bulk tearing the wood and paper to shreds.

There was a moment of silence, and then another large, metallic object punched a second hole in the ceiling, landing in an explosion of gravel and splinters. Al didn't need to see it to know it was a gas bomb- the huge clouds of yellowish smoke pouring out of it were clear indicators of that. He and Ed moved as one, pressing their hands together and holding their palms up to the encroaching smoke. There was a crackle of static, and then a huge bloom of blue-white light, as the entire cloud matched the elemental configuration of the surrounding air. He took a deep, gasping breath. The air smelled faintly of garlic. Ed gave him a worried look.

"Sulphur mustards, maybe?"

Al nodded slowly, thinking hard.

"She did say 'chemical bombardment.' If you wanted to kill a city with gas, a sulphur mustard would be the way to go. It's industrially not too complicated, but who in their right mind would do something like that…?"

Ed shook his head slowly, whistling through his front teeth. His face was hard and expressionless.

"They're willing to murder an entire city because the criminals there tried to learn about the Ember Group? These people are fucking insane. They didn't even use chemical weapons on Iqbal."

Al smiled, but not with feeling.

"Still think that our attitude should be every man for himself?"

Ed glared at him, but the expression was short-lived.

"Look, Al," he sighed ruefully, "Can the discussions about morality wait until we're out of this mess?"

He was right. Al sighed in turn, giving him a tentative thumbs-up.

"Let's go. Back to the house to get our gear, and then out of here. With any luck, they'll just bomb the place and leave. But that still means we have to deal with the gas."

If the muffled detonations and the rapidly-dying screaming coming from outside was any indication, the Ember Group was saturating Quiyan with considerable gusto. Already, thin curtains of yellow-brown smoke were beginning to drift through the holes in the ceiling and wall. Ed picked his way over to the broken corpse of the Airbender, pulling at her armour. He wrenched a torn plate loose with a zap of alchemic power, reshaping it into a wide bracelet inscribed with complicated arrays. He tossed it to Al, who hefted the light sky-iron, casting a seasoned eye over the patterns inscribed thereon. A moderately complex ibn Hayyan structure, designed to automatically convert sulphur mustards to breathable air, and automatically powered by the wearer's body heat.

"Neat," he said, slipping it on one wrist. It fit perfectly, of course. Ed gave him a quick smile.

"The colder it gets, the more concentrated the gas. Clever, if I do say so myself."

Al rolled his eyes.

"Hurry up."

The experience was exactly like walking through extremely heavy mist, albeit foul-smelling mist. Quiyan was eerily silent, all traces of the commotion gone. A dead city, dark air filled with a malignant yellow cloud. The streets were full of bodies, tangled and twisted over one another, their clothing stained with spatters of blood as they coughed their lives away. Criminals and beggars, rich and poor- no one had escaped the cloud. Several times Al had to look away from the horrifying tableau the death of the city had created, tears in his eyes. A homeless man, still clutching a scruffy, careworn mongrel. A mother hugging her child, both in nightclothes. All was still, casting weird shadows by the lights of random torches and lamps that still burnt in windows and on the occasional post. Occasionally, they had to pick their way around empty gas canisters, lying in circles of shattered cobblestones. Faintly, from high above, came the occasionally audible rumble of distant airship engines. Ed was swearing softly to himself in an almost constant stream of profanity, his knuckles white around the grip of his rifle. Al caught his eyes; there was murder in his gaze. He couldn't blame him.

They reached the warehouse without incident; it was a moment's work for Al to punch several huge ibn Hayyan arrays into the walls, making the air breathable if uncomfortably cold. His arm was covered in goosebumps, his fingertips slightly numb from the leeching cold, so he threw on a thick coat. They'd planned for rapid getaways in the past; within a few minutes most of the rifles were statically-charged scrap metal and every other evidence of their presence had been wiped away. With some misgivings, Al accepted a small pistol from his brother, tucking the chunky, ramshackle weapon into his belt. They were both lightly loaded with small packs stuffed full of food, tools, and the various rudiments of an active lifestyle, combined with incredibly illegal forged documents confirming them to be a wide assortment of government officials, military agents, banking representatives, religious officials and, oddly enough, cabbage salesman. The man who'd sold them to him- in gold, all in one lump payment, of course- had claimed that 'out-of-work cabbage merchant' was uninteresting enough to allow safe passage into just about anywhere without inspection. Oddities aside, they were extremely high-quality forgeries. That, plus the huge volume of gold _yuans_ sewn into the linings of their packs would help get them out of any awkward situations. Ed had also constructed several of what appeared to be hand grenades and stashed them none too surreptitiously in an outer pocket of his bag. Al decided to let it go. Honestly, at this stage, explosives might be of use.

"Ready?" he inquired, standing in the doorway. Ed was erasing the last of the wall arrays. They'd already cleared away the arrays holding the massive door in place, leaving it an empty metal frame.

"Ready."

He turned and stepped out into the smoke. There was something… _different_ about the light. An odd reddish haze to it. Not firelight. More steady. And much brighter, too. Something whipped by his head and clattered off the end of the alley. Some kind of dart. A second one bounced off the doorframe, narrowly avoiding his ear. Oh, _sheisse._

"Ed, we're being shot at! At least two, in the road!"

He ducked back inside, heading for the road-side wall, his hands crackling with static. He punched the wall, and it shimmered into thousands of black facets as the wood and stone became volcanic glass. He punched it again, siphoning tremendous amounts of heat out of the walls of the building and putting it into the microscopic flaws in the newly-formed glass structure. Thousands of tiny air bubbles instantly superheated, and the entire wall exploded outwards, filling every square centimeter of the road outside with hundreds of tiny, incredibly sharp splinters. It also blew away the smoke, revealing at least thirty figures in distinctive ridged plate armour. About half of them were dead, their bodies sparkling with obsidian dust. The rest were very much alive. They returned fire with great panache, tiny darts hissing through the air and plinking off the inside wall of the warehouse with a sound like falling rain. One of them, wearing a suit of that weird mechanical armour they'd seen in Gaoling, directed a multi-barreled something at them, the weapon letting off a storm of blindingly bright flares with an ear-piercing hoot. Al clapped his hands, releasing an expanding sphere of nitrogen, and their light was extinguished. Ed managed to force one out of cover by virtue of moving the cobblestone he stood on several feet to the left, whereupon he unslung his rifle and fired off several quick shots. Despite his frantic aim and nonexistent stance, all three rounds struck home… and bounced off the soldier's curved sky-iron plate. Ed swore loudly, throwing the gun to the ground.

"I knew lead was a bad idea! Fine then!", he roared, leaning around the ruined wall and clapping his hands. With a _hissss_, an expanding cone of something liquid and extremely strong-smelling congealed out of the air, spattering over several of the Ember Group soldiers. Who promptly began melting. Ed barked a laugh.

"Ha! It is easy to corrode! I was r-"

The screaming started. He deflated quickly, the laugh turning into a sickened groan.

"Oh, _gott_."

There was a growing _crunch, crunch, crunch_, accompanied by the sound of boots on stone. A hulking mechanical figure rounded the block, slowly and deliberately crushing paving stones with each careful, lumbering step. It raised its arms, the vaguely-gun shaped weapons that passed for its hands bleeding off clouds of steam.

"ELRICS," the machine rumbled, "YOU ARE SURROUNDED AND MASSIVELY OUTGUNNED. SURRENDER NOW OR YOU WON'T BE HARMED."

Ed looked at Al. Al looked at Ed.

"Run?"

"Run."

They ran. Al extended a hand, projecting a cone of air in front of them that ate through everything in their path. Instead of going out into the street, he simply walked through the opposite wall of the alley, opening on to another warehouse full of heavy crates. From behind them came the pounding of gigantic mechanical feet. Shit, the machine could _move_. They sprinted down a long row of crates, punching through the wall and out into the foggy night air. They were in a cross-street, not far from the southwestern Port District.

"Where are we headed?"

"Shit, I dunno! Keep moving!"

With a roar, an airship descended out of the fog, brilliant red fog lights trained on them as they fled through the yellow mists.

"UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUULLLLLLLLLLL LLLLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

"Shut the fuck up!"

"Save your breath, brother!"

Several more of the huge machines were dropping off the airship, landing with ground-shaking thuds, their oddly spindly feet striking up sparks as they strode easily down the street, gaining fast. Then Al realized. Oddly small feet. Huge, heavy machines with oddly small feet. He remembered Briggs. Snowshoes. Too much weight on one place and you'd sink in. And these things were really, really heavy.

"Ed!"

"What?!"

"The cobblestones and the ground beneath us! Make it epoxy!"

"What? That's stupid complicated alchemy! Wh-"

"_BROTHER_!"

Still at a dead run, Al pressed his hands together, concentrating. Epoxy was a synthetic compound, which helped, but it was still fiendishly complicated. A few seconds of TRUTH aaaaaand- there.

"Go go go!"

He leaned down, struggling to keep his balance, and let his hand drag along the ground. He gritted his teeth as energy flowed through him, his hand shaking as sparks ran through it. And the ground- changed. The cobblestone behind them subsumed into a gelatinous pool of clear yellow-white liquid, its depths throwing off odd reflections in the fog. The lead machine stepped straight into the puddle, carried by its momentum. One clawed foot rose, came pistoning down- and kept going, plunging straight into the goo. Its heavy, angular body was catapulted forwards by the sudden deceleration, hip joint exploding into a cloud of metal fragments and steam as it was wrenched around at tremendous speeds. The flat front plate slapped the epoxy hard, throwing up a slow, globbish wave of sticky epoxy, already beginning to set. The second pursuer tried to leap over the puddle, its legs exploding into motion. Unfortunately, Al and Ed were spreading the epoxy further than it could jump. It landed feet-first, sinking slowly. It managed to get its arms free, firing a few desperate shots off before the rising liquid hit the engine on its back and it ground to a halt with a noise like someone with a nose full of glue sneezing. The other pursuers stopped with considerable alacrity, sending bursts of flashing light signals up to the still-oncoming airship.

"You okay, Ed?"

Al grinned at his brother, who grinned back. He was exhausted, terrified, breathing dangerously heavily, and his ankles felt like they were about to explode, but it was freakin' amazing to be alive.

"Ragged as all hell, Al, but good! Nice job! Now what do we do about the fuckin' Zeppelin?"

He glanced up at the airship. It was flying low and steady, searchlights still locked on. The signal blister under its nose was flashing constantly, the narrow-beam lights changing colour and direction with incredible speed. Huh. Maybe they were trying to deploy marksmen or something?

"Get up there and punch the captain until he gives up?"

"That's a really _gott_damn stupid plan, Al! I like it! Columns?"

"Columns!"

He skidded to a halt, tapping the ground and bracing himself as the stone shot upwards, propelling him towards the airship above. The cannons- but wait, no one had cannons here, did they?- on its hull swivelled around, firing southwards into the clouds. Odd, that. No one was shooting at _them_. In fact, they were even swivelling the searchlights around to-

The air resounded with an odd, rising keen, and a burst of tremendous violet light. A line of purple-white fire, pencil-thin, sliced northwards out of the fog, neatly cutting off the top quarter of the airship. Its sides tore outwards like a burst balloon, metallic ribs snapping one by one as the metal of its structure was flash-heated to liquidity. The entire broken vehicle reared backwards, tumbling end over end and smashing into the city several kilometers to the north, where it rapidly set what looked to be an entire block ablaze. Al stood atop his stone pillar, feeling sunburnt and entirely flabbergasted.

"What in the hell…?", he muttered, mind reeling.

Ed was gawping, his eyes slightly unfocussed, fingers grasping convulsively at the air.

"That- how- it's not- but it- guh."

There was a second keening wail, and another beam lanced overhead, bursting an airship hovering over the north end of Quiyan. Al shook himself, forcing his uncomprehending mind back into the present.

"Ed! I think we need to go south!"

His brother frowned at him, entirely unconcerned that they were still balanced atop twin pillars of stone swaying high above the destroyed city.

"You thinking this is an 'enemy of my enemy is my friend' sort of deal?"

Al shrugged, staring hard at the point the- beam weapons? Ray gun? Cutting lance?- had originated from. There was a faint blue-white glow in the sky, like an arc lamp or spotlight. Maybe another airship? Or- damn. More of the huge living machines from Gaoling? Then again, they died when he'd used alchemy. The Ember Group wasn't so easy to deal with.

"Right," he said, wishing he felt as confident as we sounded. "Let's keep moving. Just because they've stopped shooting at us for _now_ doesn't mean they don't know we're still here."

They descended back to earth, the stone pillars collapsing back into the cobbles with a crackle and a hiss. South, then. This time, their voyage through the dead city wasn't so quiet. The sound of airships overhead was almost constant now, as was the regular screech-detonation of the beam. At one point, as they crested a low hill, they saw the beam graze one airship, slicing off several of its engines and a goodly chunk of its gasbag, but leaving the rest intact. It fell out of the sky with surprising grace, heeling with deceptive slowness as the mangled engine pylons on one side spat steam and fire. They didn't see it hit the ground, but there was no characteristic _boom_- wherever it was, it must have survived the descent. There was also evidence that there'd been troops on the ground, too- the headquarters to several of the large information brokers was in this part of town. They passed several ransacked buildings, places where discarded documents and papers littered the street in weird drifts. Several of the banks and trading companies had been literally torn open, their walls ripped apart to allow someone or something to pull their safes and vaults straight out of the foundations. At one such establishment, its high-beamed ceilings leaning crazily off broken foundations, they saw the huge footprints of the walking machines, most clustered around the gaping pit where the vault had been. Curiously, they'd left behind all the lockboxes and the smaller storage containers.

"Okay, correction on what I said earlier; these _bastards_ would kill everyone in an entire city for a fucking smash-and-grab? They're that greedy?!"

Al put a comforting hand on Ed's shoulder, feeling the tension in his brother's small frame.

"I don't think they were after the money. These people obviously aren't lacking resources. They were after information. Think about it. This is Quiyan. That they raided the brokers is obvious. But in Quiyan, you don't keep your valuable personal documents just lying around- you keep them in places where not even the information brokers are foolhardy enough to poke their noses. You put everything in a safety deposit box inside a bank vault. Obviously the Ember Group just thought-"

"That it's simpler to steal an entire goddam bank building than just break in?"

"Al, these are people who are convinced that eight-foot-tall humanoid robots and armoured airships are the be-all and end-all of military technology."

"Point taken. Let's keep moving."

As they moved south, they began to hear the echoes of combat coming from ahead, distorted and muffled by the buildings in the way. Several times they were forced to huddle in corners or duck into doorways as increasingly large and heavily-armed groups of Ember soldiers passed them, all moving southwards. Occasionally, huge bursts of fire would make themselves visible over the tops of building. Whoever the Ember Group was fighting, they were obviously Firebenders of some kind. Al wasn't entirely sure if that was a good thing or not. Whatever it meant, it _also_ meant that whatever they were fighting was probably human, which was a reassuring thought. The sound of airship engines was diminishing, as they either fled the area or were effortlessly batted out of the sky by the beam.

They rounded a corner, turning on to the Boulevard of Luo, a wide shopping concourse within sight of the water. What met them was not a dead, empty shopping street. It was a warzone. The damaged airship had half-crashed, half-landed inside the upper stories of one of the large seaside brothels, its lozenge-like hull imbedded in the terraced balconies of the huge pleasure house, obscuring the huge, tacky sign which had been violently edited to read 'Ba Sing Se Lady Qualit- ove Hotel'. Amazingly, the airship looked to be still partially airborne, its stern remaining aloft even through the ruined bow was firmly entangled in the trashed building. It was actually quite intact, several of the cannons in the sponsons at the stern firing fitfully out over the ocean. There were also a few of what looked to be rocket launchers, occasionally disgorging screaming projectiles, which, unguided, exploded randomly along the waterfront. The brothel itself, as well as several of the adjoining buildings, were swarming with Ember Group soldiers, all directing fire against a large knot of red-clad figures who were apparently trying to fight their way up from the wharves. Judging from the huge gouts of flame and the barrages of fireballs they were hurling about, there was a good chance that they were Firebenders. Far out over Quiyan Bay, the looming mass of a second airship could be seen, its silhouette much larger and somehow more ornate than the crashed Ember Group vessel. A huge mouthlike opening at its bow glowed white-hot, but the rest of its bulk was obscured by the clouds of mist or smoke that surrounded it. The whole scene was lit by the harsh, actinic glow of flares arcing lazily through the air. Al felt his bracelet cool somewhat- all the Firebending here had obviously cleared the air a great deal. Ed whistled softly between his teeth.

"Wow. They're really going at it. What d'you think those Firebenders are after? Trying to capture the ship?"

Al crouched down, leaning around the stoop of the fishmonger's on the corner.

"I dunno, brother. If they wanted to destroy it they could use that beam device. Take it out in an instant."

Ed frowned.

"Maybe it got damaged? They look to have some pretty heavy weapons on that airship."

There was a mechanical shriek from out over the bay, accompanied by a violent hissing noise, like water being poured over a sheet of hot metal. The noise grew louder and louder, culminating in a tremendous _thump_ as the nose of the distant airship exploded into vivid blue fire, a miniature star that made the water of the ocean below bubble and froth. A line of purple light burst forth from the flame, playing gently over the stern of the crashed vessel. The metal melted, raining down a brilliant storm of orange fluid. There was a tearing noise, and the stern of the airship ripped off, support cables and struts _twang_ing musically as the lifting gas in the stern pulled the structure free. The bow of the airship collapsed further into the fabric of the brothel, tearing teak and pine like uncooked pasta. The stern rose upwards, turning over and over, its broken edge still glowing a cheerful orange. It arced away into the night, before landing somewhere in the center of town with a thunderous _boom_. For a few seconds the entire building creaked precariously, its paper walls rippling and tearing. Then, slowly, it regained equilibrium. There was an anticipatory silence. There was a thunderous rolling detonation as dozens of rocket launchers along the side of its hull fired simultaneously, all of them directing their projectiles against the beam emitter. Only a few came close to their mark, but they were enough. Moments before impact, the rockets split into dozens of submunitions, the smaller warheads peppering the bow of the airship with dozens of tiny detonations. The fog-shrouded airship heeled sideways, huge chunks of hull splashing into the bay. It remained aloft, however, the cloud of smoke and steam replaced with the acrid smoke of numerous tiny fires, burning through the holes in its hull in a grim parody of the night sky above.

Ed whistled again.

"Son of a bitch. They disguised the amount of firepower they had left! And firing the beam showed them exactly where to aim!"

Al nodded.

"If we wanted to show our intent to the Firebenders, now would be an excellent time for something dramatic. A bold strike against the Ember Group. Something like that."

Someone poked him in the back of the neck. He went limp, almost smacking his head against the ground before rough hands caught him.

"What the fuuuuaaaah-?", Ed yelped. Al made similar incoherent noises. A calm, rough voice somewhere above them chuckled.

"You're clever, Elrics. Those were some nasty tricks you pulled. But you can't run from the Ember Group."

There was another sharp poke, and everything went gray.

* * *

Mai gritted her teeth. She was the daughter of Fire Nation nobility, with a family lineage dating back hundreds of years. She was a seasoned field agent of the Fire Army. She was the consort of Fire Lord Zuko, the generally-acknowledged power behind the throne in the Fire Nation. And here she was, up to her wrists in the small intestine of a Royal Guard sergeant who she knew from looking at his record was literally the son of a whore.

"Are you fucking done yet, milady?"

"Almost there, sergeant. Hold on- got it.!"

She found the jagged little lump, plucking the bullet out with fingers trained for flower arranging and tea ceremonies. She grabbed a small tin syrette from a pouch marked with a painted-over Ember insignia on her waist, plunging the needle into the man's stomach. He let out a bark of pain, then a low moan of enjoyment.

"Holy shit those Ember bastards make good drugs. Thanks, ma'am."

Something moved in Mai's peripheral vision. In one motion, she stood, wrenched the approaching Ember Group soldier's gas mask off, and stabbed her in the trachea with the empty syrette. She dropped with a gurgle. Mai returned her gaze to the downed Guardsman.

"Now you can thank me."

"Yyyyesssss maaaaarrrrrghh."

He lolled back, a blissful grin on his face. She bandaged him up, then signalled to several of the stretcher-bearers further down the shore. One of them gave her a thumbs-up. She stood in a half-stood, surveying their little beachhead. The last of the little pocket of Ember Groupers who'd broken through had been disposed of. She scrabbled up the beach to where Suki had made herself a little bunker in a noodle stall. The Kiyoshi Islander had taken a rather alarming liking to Ember Group weaponry. Mai couldn't deny that many of their tools were useful, especially when it came to medicine, but Suki was less interested in drugs and wound-cleansers and more with 'steam projectors' and 'support powered harness', whatever they were. Mai understood they were advanced, sure. But you could still kill a man with a steam projector just as easily as you could a man with a knife. Nonetheless, Suki had spent the past month tinkering with the Ember Group materiel they'd recovered after the Invasion. She'd dislocated various joints numerous times getting the suits of steam-driven mechanical armour working, but after hours of work and numerous visits to the _Phoenix __Lord Ozai_'s(The ship's crew were more loyal to the Fire Nation Airborne Corps than to their former 'emperor', and it had been generally agreed that the name was kind of stupid anyways) minimal sickbay her perseverance had paid off.

She sat leaned over a huge Ember Group anti-tank projector, her green armour made oddly skeletal-looking by the machinery she'd built into it, the effect only amplified by the varying brilliance of the flares in the sky. With a hiss of steam, she glanced up as Mai approached, blinking as she pulled away from the long scope. She'd modified her face paint slightly, replacing the porcelain mask with mottled layers of grey and green, a pattern she'd 'borrowed' from the Ember, of course.

"You got the breakthrough group dealt with?"

Mai sat down heavily next to her, allowing herself the luxury of a heavy sigh.

"They've been dealt with. The rest of the Guard filled the gap and they're continuing to push forwards. All of this for a single damned codebook. And we couldn't even save Quiyan."

Suki gave her a piercing look.

"We've gone over this before. There was nothing you could have done. They were ready to hit the city days before we got to the courier at the South Pole."

Mai sighed. She knew the other girl was right, but she still couldn't abandon the guilt. They'd spent a month dashing halfway around the globe, following leads gleaned from scraps of recovered documents and barely-decoded optical telegraph transmissions, trying to determine current Ember Group plans of action against non-White Lotus groups. Frankly, she didn't give a damn about the Lotus, if what she'd heard from reports of their actions was true. But she couldn't allow the Ember's campaign to hurt more civilians. They'd deal with their plans for world domination later. For now, she owed it to Zuko, wherever he was, to do the right thing. Right now, the world needed to know that the nations were all pulling together in uncertain circumstances. And dammit all, she knew her composure was cracking. She was an operative, an infiltrator, not a battlefield grunt. Her place was in the throne rooms and the back alleys, not the battlefields and the beeches. They were all hurting, in some way or another. Suki was burying herself in machinery. Ty Lee's characteristic cheeriness had become somewhat brittle of late.

"You're right. Thanks, Suki."

The other girl gave her an encouraging half-hug, the gesture made slightly uncomfortable by the layers of interwoven steel cable supporting her wrist and forearm.

"Hang in there."

She leaned back over the scope, sweeping the weapon across the entrenched Ember Group. She gave a double-take, reaching forwards and snapping another layer of lenses across the end of the scope.

"Hold on a minute… I don't believe it. They've got _prisoners_."

Mai pulled an ornate collapsing telescope (not Ember Group make, thankfully) out of her sleeve, flicking it open and doing her best to follow the line of Suki's scope. She was right. They were pulling two limp forms, under the influence of pressure-point paralysis, no doubt, into the brother. They looked almost like children. Small frames, anyways. But something wasn't quite right. The weapons they were carrying looked almost like Ember make, but not quite. And from the smaller of the two- yes, a glint of metal at one ankle. Hold on. Hold on.

"Suki, give me the scope."

She moved aside without a word, letting Mai settle in behind the huge weapon. She peered through the eyepiece, focussing on the face of the larger of the two. The shadows were too deep to see anything- but then someone launched another volley of flares, and the face came into stark clarity. That was a familiar hairstyle- though the colour was wrong. And the skin tone. That, plus the facial shape…

"Oh Agni. It's the Elrics. It's the spirits-damned Elrics."

"Seriously?"

Mai stood up. She interlocked her fingers, stretching her hands out in front of her until her knuckles crackled. She reached down, unstrapping her gas mask (Ember Group surplus, of course) from her waist and tightening it over her head. The inside smelled like rubber and sweat.

"Suki, get Ty Lee please. It's time to end this."

* * *

A little over fifteen minutes later, Mai rounded a corner in the long, poorly-lit hallways of the Ba Sing Se Lady Quality Plus Love Hotel just in time to see a man crash through a wall, a large, hideous vase serving to cushion his fall. He staggered to his feet, only to drop his weapon when he saw the two dozen Firebenders and three very dangerous ladies pointing their fists, projectors, fingertips and knives at him. Things had been relatively simple. The captain of the _Phoenix_ had managed one final shot from the Compressed-Plasma Incinerator before the cooling system had failed completely, but that one weak blast had been enough to silence most of the Ember Group's heavy weapons. They'd taken out their commanding officer, wrenching the codebooks out of the hands of the signalmen moments before they could destroy them, and Ty Lee had been 'persuasive' until he told them where the Elrics were being held. Now, only moments away from their destination, people were flying through walls.

The surrendering soldier moved to take a step forwards, sucking a panicked breath through his gas mask, when a small figure leapt through the hole in the wall and smashed him to the floor with a beautifully-executed spinning jump kick. The soldier's attacker spun into a normal standing position as he landed, holding his hands up, palms open. A second figure, much taller than the first- yep, that was Alphonse- stepped gingerly through the hole in the wall. Odd. They were both maskless, apparently unconcerned by the yellow-brown whisps of gas floating through the slightly-askew (the airship had shifted again) halls of the Ba Sing Se Lady Quality Plus. Ed stepped forwards, clearing his throat and speaking in a loud, clear voice.

"I mean you no harm. My name is Edo Laorei. I am an independent merchant trader formerly of Quiyan. I can-"

It was worth risking death by toxic gasses just to see the expressions on their faces when she pulled the mask off.

"Elrics, come _on_. We leave you alone for a _month_ and you go out whoring? Absolutely appalling."

-~0X0~-

No, your eyes do not deceive you! The story continues! As you may have noticed, I made some updates to chapters 4 and 14, to continue my policy of editing to fix older, discarded versions of the continuity, cut down on some of the extraneous POV characters, and generally make the earlier chapters flow better. I also fixed chapter 14 by re-adding Ed to the final scene. He was there in the early drafts, but I got a bit carried away with the editing and he was unintentionally removed, as several of you pointed out.

This chapter took so long in coming due to NaNoWriMo and my continue involvement with the SCP Foundation (check 'em out! Seriously!), aaaaaaaand I will make no guarantees on when the next one will be done. We'll see what my workload's like.

As always, thanks to everyone who reviewed and followed and subscribed! You're great!

Happy New Year, unless you're in Australia or similar time zones in which case Happy Retroactive New Year!

Also: HtE is now a cool 77, 000 words long. Golly.

_Also also; "Energy-the-hedgehog". I read your review with some concern and I'd like to publicly rebut it. First off, I won't deny that I've struggled with pacing, although I do feel that I've fixed most of the continuity errors and trimmed off some or most of the hooks for plot-lines I never developed. This story has been created over an extremely long period of time, often being written when I had no access to the rest of the body of the piece. Continuity glitches happen. At one point I was seriously considering putting a "location/time" stamp at the start of each scene, movie-style. _

_I'm curious as to how several of my villains are like Naruto characters?I've done my best to remain consistent with the uses of bending and technology present in the television series, with any extensions on those being logical extrapolations of the preexisting framework. An explanation of this point would be nice. _

_Now, as for super benders- who? I have scaled up the power level of the bending somewhat, but only because we never saw in-show bending being used all that destructively. Airbending, for instance, is a fantastically lethal and dangerous skill. I figured it was necessary to make that clear. Now, as for giant monsters- you mean the tulpa? I'd argue that their existence is a matter of personal taste- there's a lot of stuff in the Avatarverse that was deliberately left unexplained. I'm merely filling some . Steampunk style 'modern' technology. Nothing in this is particularly modern. I mean in-show the Fire Nation has heavier-than-air flying vehicles, jetskis, and plate glass (which is actually kind of more implausible than the previous two). I've tried to keep the technology reasonable by introducing sky-iron. A light, strong, heat-resistant material makes steam technology capable of a great deal more, since it removes the problems of excessive mass and steam failure at high temperatures. I will admit I handwaved where they're getting all the fuel and material from, but that will be explained later. Honest. _

_As for the atomic technology- that will be explained further, buuut here's my justification. First off, Earthbenders. Intuitive understanding of how natural solid elements (like, say, uranium) work. Second, this isn't a modern atomic bomb. It's what's known as a reactor bomb- a dead-end on the tree of nuclear technology. It's a nuclear device that requires no moving parts, or even electronics. All you need is a shitload of uranium and graphite, both of which are naturally occurring. Reactor bombs are gigantic, cumbersome, expensive to construct and impossible to transport, but above all else they are simple. All you need for a reactor bomb is a basic understanding of atomic theory and a lot of strip-mines._

_Lastly, you seem to be arguing that because the heroes are outgunned, outmatched and outmanned, the story isn't fun. My response to that is- how great's it gonna be when they stop running and start actively kicking ass? The bigger they are, the harder they fall, as the proverb goes._

_Congratulations. I've never wall-of-texted at someone on the Internet before. Hell, I dunno if you'll even read this. Ah well. Needed to get that off m'ches_t.


	21. XVI- Cooperation

After a few days, they moved Aang and Katara to the same cell. This one was larger, with more greenery on the walls and floor, as well as two cots, mounted on cleverly-concealed rails so they could be slid together to form one large bed. They'd started bringing slightly larger portions of food as well, and there was a tap on one wall which could deliver cool drinking water, or provide a lukewarm bath. He and Katara spent their time talking quietly, or reading. There was something about the place... something in the walls and in the air and in them. It made them both calm, in a way. They'd agreed on that early on. They were terrified, angry, desperate to get out, but there was no physical anger. No sense of rising fury. No fight-or-flight. Just a sort of weary relaxation. Katara had undergone the same kind of odd, hallucinatory torture as he had; she described reliving random snippets of her childhood, but nothing like the bizarre internal conversation that Aang had had. She felt the same coldness, the same preternatural langour.

"It's like something in my mind- my soul- is frozen. That's the only way it makes sense. Like they've taken a great river of energy and made it solid ice", she'd said, eyes slightly unfocussed. She was right. Someone or something had tampered with the inside of their heads. Every day they'd both spend a futile hour or so at the small depression in the floor beneath the tap, trying to get droplets of water to move around. Nothing.

At any other time, Aang had to admit guiltily to himself, he would have been kind of happy to be in a situation like this. The little... _male_ part of his brain, even partially contained by the aggression-blocking whatever, still continually reminded him that he was alone. In a room. With Katara. And that she was afraid, and needed someone to protect her. He tried to quash the thoughts, but they'd push through whatever meaningless nothings he ran through his head to distract himself. No matter how hard he stared at a page of ancient poetry or ran through bending forms, the little voice would whisper that she bathed at the tap, with nothing between her bare, damp skin and his eyes but their sense of modesty. At those times he'd look away and screw his eyes shut. So _this_ was what the monks had talked about. Puberty _was_ a battle. And every time he thought he'd suppressed that nagging wash of hormones, she'd snuggle tighter against him in her sleep or make eye contact or even just _breathe_ and-

There was movement outside the cell. It wasn't regular mealtimes, and they'd received fresh sets of clothes earlier in the day. They both stood, Katara setting down her book and moving closer to Aang. Their hands met, and clung to each other. Aang took a deep, shuddering breath, trying his best to look confident and unconcerned. He knew it wasn't working.

The huge bolts slid back, and the door swung open on quiet, well-oiled hinges. A guard stepped through the opening, his face placid and set, his large hands empty. There was a brief pause, and then a figure out of a nightmare entered the room on clanking, unsteady feet. Its skin was smooth, segmented porcelain, broken by oddly bulky folds of thick, parchment-like skin, with bulging veins running just under the taut surface. Its face was a featureless mass of tissue, broken by two wide, blank discs that had to be its eyes. It swayed to a halt, hissing and buzzing, and they both recoiled. Then it spoke.

"I apologize for my rather unpleasant appearance. I hope you are both well, given the circumstances?"

Aang blinked, feeling the haze of panic drop away from his sight. It wasn't a creature, it was a man, of about average stature, wearing porcelain-plated mechanical harness over a full-body suit of overlapping bandages. The skin over the joints was thick dressings, the veins bulges from the knots holding the cloth in place. He was wearing glasses over his bandaged face. The man sighed tiredly.

"Do you mind if I sit?"

There was a moment's pause, then Katara made a slight motion of her head. He sat, the armour clicking and hissing, letting off small jets of steam. He sighed with relief, stretching out his lumpy, bulky legs.

"Like I said, I really am sorry for my appearance. I'm not intending to be intimidating. There was- an accident, and I suffered severe burns. The healers say they can repair most of the damage with Waterbending, but my skin still needs some time to recover on its own before that can happen. I'm also supposed to avoid overexerting myself, whatever that means. Hence," he made a broad gesture, "this ridiculous mummified getup."

He reached up with one bandaged hand, exposing gnarled-looking pinkish-red fingertips to pull at the bandages over his mouth, revealing lips covered with thick gauze pads. Where his skin showed through, it looked like raw meat.

"So. To repeat my previous question. Avatar Aang. Katara of the Southern Water Tribe. Under these... unfortunate circumstances, how are you?"

Aang gritted his teeth, feeling suppressed aggression boil and rage in the frozen depths of his mind. The little male part wanted to smash this freak's face in, but reason prevailed.

"Why are we being held here? Where are Zuko and Sokka and Appa? What do you want with us?"

The burnt man looked up at him, brown eyes expressionless behind his glasses. He gave what was probably a faint smile.

"You're not even going to ask me to introduce myself? Then again given what has happened I can understand. Well then. My name is General Si. I am in charge of the military arm of the Ember Group, which means that I am essentially in charge of the Ember Group, which means that most of the proceeding sentence has been a waste of your time and mine. But I digress. Now, as for your questions. In order... let me see here. Ah yes. First, because you're a danger to yourselves and to our goals. Second, the good Fire Lord is healthy and well, although his psyche dredging was necessarily a longer and more thorough process, given the number of state secrets we required him to divulge. He will be strong enough to speak with within the next day or two. Lady Katara, your brother is in high spirits, and recovering well. Your Sky Bison has been treated with utmost courtesy, and allowed to mingle with out local herds. Where was I. Oh yes. Number three. Ahem. Third, I want your cooperation."

He stood abruptly.

"Shall we walk? I am sure you would both greatly enjoy a change of scenery."

* * *

The hall outside was a slightly dimly-lit, cavernous space, lit by a faint, unwavering golden glow that seemed to emanate from the air itself. There were a half-dozen other cell doors, the thick layers of metal and ceramic standing out like tumors against the mossy wall surface. The cool air was filled with a faint sussuration, like pieces of paper being rustled against one another. Aang couldn't identify it, and then he heard Katara gasp. Following her amazed gaze, he looked up. At first his mind could not grasp what he was seeing; just immense geometrical shapes, overlaid across one another. He blinked, and it came into focus. Shelves. Racks and racks of shelves, branching and sprouting from one another in impossible geometric patterns. Bookshelves, kilometers long, filled with an uncountable number of tomes. Here and there, built off the edges of the shelves like small saplings hung cantilevered metal gantries. Though they were dwarfed by the scale of the place, they were overgrown with towering buildings, hanging off of and often underneath them. Thin rivulets of water ran off them, descending for kilometers before dissolving away into mist. It was a library on a _geological_ scale.

"This the Great Library, isn't it?", Katara said. "That's how you kept the Ember Group safe from the White Lotus. All this technology couldn't beat the Spirit World. Only a Spirit could."

General Si smiled as best he could.

"Excellent. Katara, I'm quite impressed. You hit the proverbial nail. Owl, do you mind?"

There was a soft displacement of air, and a shape that was an ink drawing of an owl and an origami construction of one and the written character for 'owl' unfolded itself into the space in front of them. It spoke with a soft, vibrant and infinitely world-weary tone.

"Avatar Aang. Lady Katara."

Aang felt himself tense. That voice meant nothing good.

"Wan Shi Tong," he managed through gritted teeth. The Owl chuckled softly.

"I'm aware our last meeting was under hardly ideal circumstances," it said coolly. "But now that you've seen what's going on here, I'm sure you can understand that I could hardly reveal the full extent of my Library to you. Or my..."

"Houseguests," Si finished the sentence. "It's really more like a symbiotic relationship. We provide for each other. The Ember Group can give Wan Shi Tong here information that even his Knowledge Seekers are incapable of locating, as well as protection from interlopers. His ability to... defy certain cosmological barriers provides us with otherwise-inacessible resources."

Aang nodded slowly. Suddenly the highly improbable industrial base of the Ember Group made sense.

"You claim to be a humans-only organization, but really you're cheating. That's how you supply yourself. He uses his spirit powers to create raw materials for you. That's why everything you build is jam-packed with sky iron. That's how you can fuel all those airships. You don't work for what you have, it's handed to you on a silver platter. How can you be so hypocritical?"

Suddenly the aura of gentle politeness was gone from Si. When he spoke, his voice was just as menacing and mechanical as his appearance.

"Because, Avatar, we are fighting a war for this world. All is fair. We do what is necessary. The Owl knows this. We know this. If the Lotus wins, they will alter all life on this world so irrevocably that what you know as humanity will no longer exist. We cannot allow that to happen."

Katara crossed her arms, expression set in what Aang knew was her 'time for a serious moral debate' face.

"So the ends justify the means so much that you'd build a hyper-aggressive military society run on technology that you refuse to share with anyone? Do they justify what happened to the Northern Water Tribe- I assume that was you, knowing how much you like to be _discreet_. Do they justify attacking a small town in the Earth Kingdom for no apparent reason? Do they justify what you've tried to do to Zuko? And where is he? Or my brother for that matter, you creep."

Aang joined in as well, feeling his repressed frustration boil and bubble even as his voice remained level and his breathing even.

"And what did you do to our heads? And our Bending? Considering you're so pro-human, you're pretty willing to do a lot of terrible things to innocent people. You tortured us. We are _children_, and you _tortured _us. We were incapacitated, totally defenceless- thanks to the actions of your thugs, who tried to _blow up_ a stadium full of innocent people- and you _tortured _us. How do you live with yourself, Si? Spirits, you're worse than Ozai. At least he was straightforward enough to tell people that he wanted to exterminate the Earth Kingdom. You'd do the same thing, only you'd call it 'reeducation' or something like that."

The Owl chuckled softly as it faded away into nothingness.

"Well spoken, you two," it said in hushed tones. They were left alone with Si and the impassive guards. He sighed, then hummed a few short notes. Aang blinked as the tones reverberated through his skull. Those were familiar-

_they are screaming as they run out of the burning temple, their robes and tonsured hair afire as the soldiers circle in the darkness their armour glowing bonfire red and the mountain resounds with the crackle of sparks_

He was on his knees, retching as screaming pain ripped across his psyche. Katara was sobbing. Then it passed, and the soft calm returned. He staggered to his feet. Si was calmly examining the wrist joint of his armor.

"We didn't just dig around in your mind to take from it, Avatar. We also left a few useful codes in there. Congratulations. You're one of us now, in a way. Your body will no longer enter states of physical shock. You will find that your heart rate remains more stable under stress. You cannot experience post-traumatic stress disorder. Your ability to focus will improve. And you will _not_ , can _not _act against us. My predecessors picked apart hundreds of test subjects piece by piece to achieve the technologies that have altered your minds! You belong to the Ember Group! You ARE the Ember Group! I have need of you, and you _will_ cooperate!"

His steady, mechanical tone never changed. His eyes, when they were visible, were calm and collected. And yet somehow Si's voice managed to become a thunderous roar all the same. Aang gasped an uneven breath.

"You're completely insane."

Si clicked his tongue. Suddenly the veneer of politeness was back.

"Spirits sakes, Avatar. That old cliche? Spare me, please. Yes, we're unethical. Yes, we have done incredibly unethical things. Yes, we intend to do more. Because our end goal is the ultimate survival of the human race. When it boils down to it, the Ember Group really just aims to show humanity that we shouldn't turn against ourselves when we've got a much greater threat to face. Namely, the White Lotus. Or rather, the inhuman intelligences that claim to be the White Lotus."

He turned away from them, giving an airy 'follow me' gesture.

"Now then. Time for some long-awaited reunions."

* * *

"Mai, if you don't mind me asking-"

Al ran into a low-hanging pipe. He staggered back, reaching out a hand to steady himself. He gripped another section of pipework, only to yelp and recoil as it nearly burned him. The interior of the _Phoenix_ was a mess of heat-disippation machinery so overengineered and overbuilt that even Ed had to duck in places.

"Ow. What the hell _is_ this thing?"

"An incredibly dangerous and highly unstable superweapon powered by the deposed Crown Princess of the Fire Nation.", the Fire Lady said, deadly serious.

Al blinked, frowning even harder against the diffuse red gloom that pervaded the mazelike corridors. One of the crewmen, apologizing profusely, squeezed past them, the fit not made any easier by the thickly padded heatproof suit he was wearing. The acrobat- Tai Lee? Ty Lee? Probably the latter- gave a brittle laugh.

"Just remember to never, _ever_ open the hatch marked 'Imperial Ignition Chamber'. Azula gets pouty if you wake her up early."

There was a cramped and uncomfortable silence after that, and then they came into the relatively open space of the bridge. It wasn't disimilar to the bridge of the _Wind Chariot_, with the exception of the everpresent ductwork and the areas of floor that looked to have been literally tied down. The closer you got to the _Phoenix_'s weapon, the more complete the ship was; there were areas of the crew quarters that were completely open to the elements, and some of the outer hull was held together by leftover drydock scaffolding. The painted woman, Suki, and the ship's captain were huddled over one of the small desks that someone had cobbled together out of loose construction materials, speaking quietly and poring over the small codebook that Mai had taken from the Ember Group warship.

"Any luck on those engines, ma'am?", the captain inquired, his high-cheekboned face perfectly neutral. Al couldn't read him well, but this man was obviously used to dealing with royalty. His previous boss had been... dangerous, it would appear, and he still bore the scars in his bearing and excessive politeness.

"They should be working, Captain Erzuo," Mai said. "With the Alchemists on our side, mechanical failures are a thing of the past.

"Of course, ma'am."

Suki stood, her steam armour hissing and clicking. It hadn't taken Al long to realize that she was falling apart at the seams as much as Ty Lee was, just in a different way. The acrobat had gone all tense and rigid, trying desperately to maintain good humor and a positive outlook. Suki was the obsessive type. Her paranoid devotion to wearing the armour at all hours of the day and night proved it. In the three days he and Ed had been on the _Phoenix_, he had never once seen her remove the heavy plate, or the strange mottled facepaint that looked like someone had poured mud on a china doll.

"Mai, we cracked it. Erzou found the base for the key, and then it was just a matter of filling in the blanks."

The little codebook came in two parts; the first had a mix of various lettering systems and the on-off codes for the Ember Group optical telegraphs. The second was far more bizarre; just a series of long, wavering lines, their swooping dips and curves carefully printed. Mai claimed it looked vaguely like an old form of musical notation she'd seen in a book once, but they couldn't make heads or tails of it. The bridge was suddenly crackling with excitement. Al knew that Mai had tasked her crew with recording every snatch of Ember Group optical telegraph transmission they could capture, and she'd been viciously thorough in ransacking the crashed airship for documents and papers.

"Where are they going, Suki? Where do these Ember bastards intend to hit next?"

Suki shrugged.

"That, I can't tell you. But they're very interested in Omashu, all of a sudden."

Mai actually _smiled_. It was cold, and it was angry, and frankly there was very little happiness to it, but it was still a smile. Ed glanced at Al. They didn't need to speak, but in that brief moment of eye contact they both said a lot. Al shivered. He knew they were probably siding with the good guys here, but the scary thing was he couldn't tell. And Ed was thinking the same thing.

"Captain.", Mai said, as if ordering something tasty at an expensive restaurant. "Lay in a course for Omashu. I think it's time we all paid King Bumi a visit."

* * *

"Katara!"

"Sokka!"

"Aang."

"Zuko!"

"GRUMF."

"Appa!"

"Hi, gang."

"Toph?!"

"Ahem. If I might have your attention, please."

"Who the hell are you?"

"Sokka, sit _down_."

He sat. Katara gave him another squeeze on the shoulder. Being all together again... Aang could feel the tension draining out of them. Zuko might have large, unpleasant looking scars on both temples, Sokka might be unshaven and haggard-looking, and Toph might be clad in something not entirely dissimilar to an Ember Group uniform, but they were together. They'd even managed to cram Appa into the tiered briefing room, somehow. He settled back into the bison's warm, soft fur, letting Appa's familiar scent wash over him. They were still trapped, that much was true. His mind was still encased in iron-cold restraints. His Bending, and the voices of the Avatars, were nowhere to be found. But they were _together_. And Si had gone, leaving behind this slightly pudgy man with a well-trimmed beard and droopy, slightly apologetic eyes. He cleared his throat, consulting a clipboard.

"Right. My name is Quanli Shou. I'm the General's assistant. The simple fact that I am briefing you today means that what we need from you is vitally important. Now, I'm aware that the psyche dredging process was... not entirely pleasant, especially for you, Fire Lord Zuko, but it couldn't be helped."

Sokka rose from his seat, drawing a breath. Without looking up from the clipboard, Shou flicked his wrist. Suddenly there was a largeish pistol crossbow in his hands, pointed directly between Sokka's eyes. Aang felt his entire body prepare to leap into the path of the bolt, muscle memory struggling against the spirits-damned mental block. Toph grabbed Sokka by the shoulder and forced him down into his seat.

"Thank you," Shou said. There was a hard edge to his voice now, one that Aang hadn't picked up before. It wasn't that he was arrogant- no, Shou was just supremely _confident_.

"About two months ago we lost every single one of our agents in Omashu," Shou said, spinning a valve on a rickety-looking device that seemed to project images through coloured sheets of glass. The back wall of the briefing hall lit up with a long list of names.

"Normally, losing a deep-cover agent or two wouldn't be an issue. Accidents happen. However. Over the course of one week, we fell out of contact with two _hundred_ people. Everyone from beggars on the street to several of Bumi's cabinet ministers who belonged to us. We were expecting the unexpected in Omashu; I'm sure you've all heard of the rather strange orders Bumi issued before moving to Ba Sing Se. Extremely early curfews, interdiction of several of the major mountain passes... There was a massive swath of territory to the west of Omashu that simply became inaccessible. All of our agents had been reporting earthquakes, strange noises in the night, odd weather patterns. And then they vanished."

He triggered the projection machine. The next slide was... odd. It looked like a reproduction of a simple ink painting. It looked like a tree, perhaps. A tree of cloud, with a single starburst of lines at its roots.

"This is what the single Attuned Firebender who survived making a pass over Omashu drew for us. Three hours later he went catatonic and his heart stopped."

"Question.", Sokka said. "What're these 'Attuned', you're talking about?"

Shou was about to speak, but Toph cut him off.

"They're these weird Benders who've had surgery done on them or something. They can use their bending to see like I can, but more so. Waaaaay more so."

"Thank you, Miss Bei Fong.", Shou said evenly.

"Stuff it, Porky.", Toph retorted, her voice just as calm.

"I'll choose to ignore that comment."

"I'll choose to ignore that crossbow."

Aang couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief.

"I missed you, Toph.", he said. She flashed him a wide grin. Shou rolled his eyes and pocketed the bow again.

"Aang, now is really not the time.", Katara said, but there was a spark of humor in her eyes.

"May I continue? Thank you. We've made several attempts to infiltrate teams into Omashu, with no success. Given that you've missed recent events, you should know that Bumi has abandoned Ba Sing Se, and most of the court, and barricaded himself in Omashu by cutting off all the surrounding mountain passes. He is almost certainly accompanied by his royal guard, but the reports from the few squads that returned from reconnaissance in the area alive and intelligibly sane would seem to indicate that he may have acquired... active assistance from the White Lotus."

Toph cocked an eyebrow.

"Tulpa don't drive people crazy, Porky. Oh." She turned in her seat, facing in the general direction of Aang, Katara, Zuko and Sokka. "Tulpa are the big puppet things we ran into in Gaoling. They're sort of like White Lotus tanks. Kind of."

Shou shook his head.

"They're not Tulpa, whatever they are. All we know is that they make Attuned surveying impossible, and they're remarkably good at seeking out and destroying infiltrators. Which is where you come in, Avatar."

Aang started.

"I'm sorry. You've tried to brainwash me and now you're asking me and my friends to try and sneak in to a deathtrap mountain fortress controlled by childhood best friend, who may be conspiring with spirits and also completely insane? Riiight."

Shou shook his head again.

"No, actually. We've decided that the time for infiltration is over. So you're going to stroll in there and demand to see Bumi. You are to use whatever means necessary to find out what is going on there. If you judge it necessary, you even have our permission to destroy Bumi and his work, should that prove necessary."

Zuko spoke slowly, his voice strained. Whatever they'd done to his head wasn't healing up nearly as fast.

"What's stopping us from changing sides? Why couldn't we just offer to help Bumi and the White Lotus? He hasn't kidnapped us. Or messed around with our minds."

Shou smiled thinly and advanced the machine. It showed a chart; rank upon rank of tiny airship-shaped icons, accompanied by tiny panels of statistics.

"Fire Lord, you won't be going in _alone_. You'll be going at the head of Air Group Si Wong. This is reconnaissance in force. If reconnaissance fails, we will be forced to ensure that White Lotus forces in Omashu are no longer a threat to us. If you have any objections to this mission, we will be happy to put you into medically-induced comas until such time as you can be useful to us once more. So. What say you?"

-~0X0~-

No, your eyes have not deceived you. Harnessing the Elements is still alive. And also more than two years old. And it just passed the 80, 000 word mark. Hooray!

The moral of the story is that university and writing do not mix that well.

Thanks as always to people for following and favoriting. You're what keep me going.

Have a wonderful summer, y'alls.


	22. XVII- Masks in the Dead City

Al heaved the section of pipework into place, the metal flowing like liquid as he sealed it with the sections next to it. He dusted himself off, leaning back into the cramped walkway as far as he could.

"Hit it!", he shouted up the hall in Common, and was rewarded by the gurgle of liquid flowed down the pipe. Almost instantly, the temperature in the corridor dropped by several degrees. A whoop of triumph echoed down the hall.

"Coolant pressure looks good! Finally!"

He leaned forwards and pulled a thick cloth pad over the coolant pipe, buckling it in place and standing as best he could. Only an hour more on his shift, judging by the last timekeeping whistle. It was oddly satisfying, being on repair duty. The _Phoenix _had made several brief stops at Fire Nation colonial outposts moving inland, where they'd had a chance to offload their wounded and take on fresh food, fresh water, and most importantly most of the materials needed to actually finish the airship. In four days of feverish work, he and his brother, along with every available spare hand, including Suki and Mai, had managed to stitch together the thin metal skin of the _Phoenix_'s hull, repairing the impact craters that the Ember Group had made but also filling the gaps left by unfinished construction. The ship was just as cramped and uncomfortable as it had been, but at least now the crew quarters no longer opened on empty sky, and various cabins and passages made previously inaccessible by the heat radiating from the semi-finished Compressed-plasma Immolator (which was what the War Minister had apparently designated the _Phoenix_'s monstrous thermal weapon) and its incomplete cooling system. It was progress. Al didn't know if it was _enough_ progress, but it was satisfying to collapse into a hammock at the end of the day knowing that he had done good, honest work. Certainly better than being shot at, or pressure-pointed, or blown up.

Giving a wave to the crewman bent over the coolant control panel, he turned to move down the hall.

"If you need me, I'll be working in the observation deck."

"Thanks, Al. We've got things under control over here."

He left them to their work, half-crawling up the companionway that would take him to the ship's observation and spotting deck. It had been no more than a rough framework when the _Phoenix _was hastily launched, and each time the Immolator fired its waste gasses melted and ate away at the structural beams a little more. He knew Ed had spent a great deal of time there- the Fire Nation engineers could get the engines into better shape on their own, but if the observation deck failed completely it could lead to a total collapse of the airship's bow. It took him a few moments of weaving around pipes and scrambling up and down ladders to reach the heavy bow hatch, wedged between the outer hull of the airship and the huge tube that was the outer shell of the Immolator. He'd only been inside the weapon once, and never while it was active, but he shuddered to think of what it was like to man it. The score of Firebenders assigned to Immolator duty strapped themselves into huge coolant suits, confined in the tight space within the weapon's barrel. There, they confined and fed the initial flame the Crown Princess lit for them, turning a burst of heat and gas into a lance of ravening energy. They all bore burn scars of some description, the result of tiny faults in the huge network or insulators, heatsinks and radiators that kept the weapon's power from reducing hem to ashes. Entering the Immolator also meant passing through the Ignition Chamber- what some of the crew had taken to calling the Madhouse- where the Crown Princess was tended to by two hard-faced female orderlies. He shivered unconsciously. The look in Princess Azula's eyes...

Then he shivered again, from cold this time. Icy wind whistled through the gaps around the hatch, and he hastily untied the thick leather jacket from his waist and shucked it on over the heavy canvas of his Fire Nation Air Corps flightsuit. He fumbled in his pockets for his woolen cap and goggles, tying the former tightly over his chin and the latter even more tightly around his head. He left his hands bare- the work in the observation deck was too delicate for covered hands. Lastly, he donned the safety harness hung next to the door, double-checking the straps.

Then he opened the hatch, and stepped out into the nightmarish landscape that was the foothills of Omashu. They'd first seen it two days ago. A green-brown glow on the horizon, a colour that managed to look both warm and oddly sickly at the same time. Captain Erzuo claimed the wind currents were behaving oddly, and the fitful gusts that shook the _Phoenix _as they approached the first low lines of hills had done nothing to improve the dour officer's mood. The land below would have been wild but beautiful under any other circumstances, the scattered herdsmen's huts picturesque, but the light from the sky sapped the colour from the world, leaving the increasingly rocky foothills looking sickly and unearthly. All signs of habitation disappeared soon after; the steeper the hills, the more bizarre the terrain.

Someone in the _Phoenix_'s cramped mess hall had said it was something like listening to two pieces of music at once- you could hear both in a disjointed fashion, but together they clashed and made for something unpleasant. That was the land around Omashu. The earth was rippled and distorted, rocky grass giving way randomly to sandy desert, gravel scree, or rotting marshes. The ruins of vast stone structures dotted the mountains, architectural monstrosities of an impossible scale, their cold alien geometries piercing the earth in a manner that was oddly uncomfortable. In the hazy organic glow of the sky, nothing looked like it fit with anything else. There was something in the air, too- a certain lassitude or stagnation, like some great living thing had lain down to moulder all about them. Crewmen heard strange sounds in the wind at night, and one day it had rained black, oily drops that left chemical burns on exposed skin. There was an unspoken agreement among the crew that not even the Ember Group could be responsible for something this bizarre and uncanny.

Al hooked himself onto one of the thick safety loops on the doorframe, leaning out over empty space as he gingerly put his weight on the skeletal support beams below. Across the empty deck, Ed was hanging from his own harness, blood dripping from a cut on his forehead, his eyes wide and frightened. He spun as Al entered, yelping.

"Al! _Gott sei Dank!_ It just flew off again, but-"

Al blinked, uncomprehending. What in the hell-?

"Brother", he said, shouting over the growing hum of the wind, "What are you talking about?"

Ed scrabbled his way onto a support beam, his hands clenched white-knuckle tight around a broken length of pipe. Its surface was torn and deeply scratched, as if he'd fended off something with claws sharp enough to gouge metal.

"You didn't see it? Something landed and-"

He stopped, eyes bugging wide. When he spoke, his voice was soft and strained.

"Al, jump."

Had anyone other than his brother told him to jump off the front of an airship, Al would have ignored them. But he knew his brother's tone of voice. It took a great deal to truly frighten Ed, and this was the most frightened he'd seen him in a long time. Then Al had another realization. The humming sound, what he'd thought was the wind- it was coming from directly above him.

He threw his weight forwards and dropped off the beam, feeling something cut through the air directly behind him. His left shin cracked against something metallic, the impact spinning him around.

And then he saw it, leaning down from the structural beams above him, one limb-like protruberance outstretched. Its silhouette was an impossibility, its construction so obscene and incomprehensible that his mind recoiled at the task of understanding it. Only one portion of its deformed body was discernible- a naked human torso, arms broken off beneath the shoulders, topped by a gaunt head whose face had been replaced with a fist-sized ball of the same green-gray metal that formed the heart of the White Lotus war machines. Its whole structure vibrated and twitched spasmodically, making the air around it reverberate like a taut drum.

Ed dropped his pipe. They both clapped simultaneously. The structural beams around it curled in like claws as the air around it coalesced into a sheet of powerful acid at Al's command. The beast shuddered, let out an inhuman rattling croak, and vanished, leaving behind a receding hum and a few splashes of rust-red liquid.

Al hauled himself back to safety, breath ragged. He looked at Ed. There were no words. And then, over the wind, he heard the ship's alarm. Boarders.

* * *

It appeared as suddenly as a thunderclap, folding its way around the edge of the bridge windows, all fluid and nightmarish angles. Mai had put three darts into its bulk before she realized they were just passing straight through. Captain Erzuo died instantly when it touched him, his body violently exploding as a twisted tentacle-limb punched through the centre of his forehead. The helmsman made a dash for the exit, only to tumble to the floor screaming when a gently humming protruberance unfolded into a serrated edge and sawed his legs off below the knee with an elegant flick.

Abruptly, the creature paused, then slipped back through the glass and was gone, rippling through the sky like a deep-sea creature. It was joined by half a dozen more, their amputated torsos lolling and twitching as they flew. Mai drew a shuddering breath, only to be interrupted by the boarding alert klaxon, which blared for a few moments before being silenced. The man on the ground whimpered and passed out. There was the sound of stomping footsteps outside, and the Elrics barged in, accompanied by various crewmen in engineering outfits. Ed was bleeding heavily from a cut on his face, and Al looked white as a sheet.

"Did you-", he began, before noticing the carnage. "You did."

Mai nodded.

"It just-"

"Left.", Ed finished. "Flying towards the city."

There was more movement outside, and Ty Lee and Suki crammed into the bridge space, the former in pajamas, the latter hefting an anti-tank projector.

"What the hell just happened?", Suki demanded, looking confusedly at the state of the bridge. "Spirits, someone get a doctor!"

Ty Lee took a shuddering breath, hugging herself tightly.

"M-mai, what did this?"

Mai shrugged, shivering as the adrenaline worked its way out of her system.

"I have no idea. But we need to find out. I don't know if this is Ember Group work, but the fact remains that something from Omashu just attacked us."

She raised her voice to address the confused mass of crewmen, several of whom were attending to the legless man.

"From this moment, I want everyone on alert. Be prepared to repel boarders _at all times_. This is not a fact-finding mission anymore."

Someone in the back of the crowd snorted.

"No kidding, lady."

Mai rolled her eyes.

"Get someone on the helm. I want us at full cruising speed as soon as possible. And wake up the Crown Princess. We may need her."

* * *

"Gosh, this place is deader than one of Zuko's jokes!"

Oddly enough, Mai was the only one who came even close to laughing. Al smiled politely, but kept his eyes roaming. Ed was beside him, covering wherever he wasn't looking. Or so he hoped. From a little ways ahead of them, Suki let out a disgusted groan.

"Would you keep quiet?", she hissed, "We're in unknown territory here."

There was a rustle of cloth and the soft tapping of feet against masonry as Ty Lee kicked off the facade of the building above them, landing lightly at Suki's side and giving the girl a hearty slap on her power-armoured shoulder.

"Why so glum, chum?", she said with no little venom. "Smile a little! It's only a dead city full of horribly mutated half-human monsters currently being investigated by a small army of heavily-armed thugs! And the best part is, we might not even _be _the heavily-armed thugs! Just think! It could be the other guys!"

Suki rounded on her, trying to shove her back. Naturally, the acrobat danced out of the way, but the intent was still there. Al winced, and then sighed.

"L-ladies, p-"

Ed cut him off before he could finish, keeping his voice low.

"Let them."

He gave his shorter sibling a confused glance.

"Brother?"

Ed's face was grim and set, and his eyes were filled with an odd weariness.

"Al, remember when we watched someone kill God?"

Al frowned.

"What does that-"

"Remember when we watched a man use living people as organic explosives?"

"B-brother, what-?"

"Remember when our mother came back?"

Al felt something clench in his gut, and a wave of cold fury washed over him. Suki and Ty Lee were engaged in a full-on shouting match, one which Mai and her spearhead of Firebenders was doing nothing to prevent.

"Brother, what the hell-"

Ed grabbed the front of his shirt, and pulled him close. The gesture was so unexpected that Al actually lost his balance, and he was forced to step into an awkward half-lean. Ed glared straight into his eyes.

"We have both seen things. Incredible and terrible things. We've seen the Homunculi. We've seen Father. We've seen the Truth. These girls- because that's what they are- they're still playing at being soldiers. They've killed people, true. They've watched people die, true. But they've never seen what they thought of as a law of nature be torn to shreds before their eyes. For what it's worth, they still have some measure of- call it naivete- about them. They're stressed. They're scared as hell. Less than a month ago they thought they'd saved the world. This arguing will help them. It's catharsis, plain and simple. So _zip it_."

Al rocked backwards, blinking. He knew his brother had hidden depths, but he'd never expected something like this.

"Ed, I- I didn't know you cared. I'm sorry."

Ed sighed, his shoulders drooping.

"Honestly, they kind of remind me of us. Let them work things out. If they're feeling less frightened, it might make me feel a bit better myself."

Al wrapped an arm around Ed's shoulders, giving him a tight hug.

"We're all scared, Brother. It's only natural."

Ed pulled away.

"It's more than scared. It's- you're getting that feeling from the air here too, right? Like nothing here really belongs?"

Al paused, pondering. He had a point.

"Like- like every time you look away from something and look back, you feel like it's moved slightly? How every time you take a step, even if you're looking where your feet are going to fall-"

Ed nodded, smiling grimly.

"You still find yourself hesitating when you touch the ground. Like it might not really be _there_. There's something wrong about this place. It doesn't _fit_."

"It's like the entire city got hit with something that knocked it out of alignment with- with everything."

"Mmmhm."

There was a muffled _crunch _from ahead of them as Ty Lee hit a pressure-point on Suki's forehead just as the warrior's armoured fist smashed into her exposed stomach. They both collapsed, limp. There was a moment of silence. Mai frowned, ever so slightly. Ty Lee's gurgled something incoherent, and Suki flopped like a drowning fish, most of her lower body apparently immobilized. And then they started laughing. Hysterically, but good-hysterically. Al breathed a sigh of relief.

"Told you so," Ed said.

And then a man stepped out of the alleyway ahead of them, and Al shot him in the foot.

* * *

Aang jumped when Katara snuggled up next to him, and then kicked himself for it.

"Hey."

"Hey."

They continued in silence for a few minutes. Appa, having been given a fairly straight course to follow, had drifted into his usual in-flight semi-doze, snoring softly as he cut through the air at deceptive speed. He'd balked and shuddered when the sky had changed colour, but Aang kept him going. He knew that colour. That was the colour of the Spirit World. The Ember Group had been right; something very wrong was happening at Omashu.

"She's taking it really well," Katara said, resting her head on his shoulder. He snuggled back, throwing an arm around her. This was going well. He cleared his throat.

"Who, Toph?"

The girl in question was napping in her usual hunch over the side of Appa's saddle, the little uniform tassles on her Ember Group suit ruffling in the wind. She had the same brutal buzz-cut they'd all received, only she'd had a month for it to grow back a little.

"Yeah," Katara responded, "I mean she suddenly learned that her parents- who she spent her entire life thinking were repressive jerks- are super-spies or secret agents or something like that? I was expecting more of a reaction, I guess."

Aang gave a slight shrug, keeping his eyes on the horizon.

"She's had some time to come to terms with it. And this is Toph we're talking about; wouldn't it just stroke her ego to learn she's got parents who are actually kind of cool?"

Katara giggled, and the sound sent shivers up his spine.

"Can you imagine," she said, fighting back laughter, "if she had kids? If Toph's parents are spies, and their kid is- well- herself, imagine what their granddaughter'd be like?"

"Badass."

"Bad. Ass."

Their shadows grew stark and well-defined as a searchlight beam passed over them from behind. Further back in the saddle, Sokka gave an exasperated yelp.

"You philistines," he shouted, "do you have nothing better to do but disturb the-"

There was a sound like someone being hit through a sleeping bag.

"Sokka, _shut up_," Zuko grumbled. "Put a blanket over your head and go back to sleep. You're worse than they are."

Both men receded into tired mumbling, followed soon after by blessed snore-punctuated silence. Aang glanced back over his shoulder at the armada of airships that was tailing them. They'd all had their Bending returned- though he was limited to air- but he had no doubt that on one of those ships someone had a weapon trained at them at all times.

"It's a loose leash they've got us on, but it's still a leash," he muttered to himself. Katara gave him a sharp look.

"You're still worried that they're going to stab us in the back?"

He sighed, giving Appa a gentle prod with his foot as the great beast began to veer slightly.

"I know that if they wanted us dead we'd be long dead, but-"

Katara nodded.

"The last time we were at the head of an army, it was an army of our friends. People we knew and could trust. We all knew we were fighting for the same goal. This time 'round-", she said, trailing off.

"Exactly."

Katara manhandled him around until they were face to face. And then she kissed him, and things went a little fuzzy for a while. When Aang surfaced from the sea of hormones they'd been swimming in, Katara was giving him an intense look. And- oh spirits, oh spirits she was tearing up.

"If they try to hurt you," she said, a catch in her voice, "I will tear them to bits, you understand me? I won't let them."

Aang felt tears spring to his eyes. And then, of course, his big stupid mouth went and said something big and stupid.

"Y-you too."

She paused. And then she laughed, fully and loudly this time. He was adrift again, this time in a sea of awkward confusion. And then she kissed him once more, which didn't help matters.

"My boyfriend the Avatar," she chuckled, "the greatest sage on the planet."

She mock-bowed to him.

"Bless me with more of your wisdom, Avatar. Enlighten me."

He was prevented from making a witty comeback by a rather more literal form of enlightenment, as the spotlights on most of the lead airships lit up. The underbellies of the fleet came alive with the twinkling of their optigraphs, and he heard, faintly over the rush of the wind, the hooting of alarms and klaxons.

Behind them, someone sat up suddenly. When he spoke, Zuko's voice was full of a deep horror and loathing.

"They're going to blow the whistles, aren't they."

"Yup," came Sokka's voice, "And they're speeding up. Definitely. They sure do like to toot their own horns, don't they?"

"I HATE YOUR PUNS SO MUUUUUu-", Toph began to scream, but then

_UUUUUUUULLLLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!_

"-uch. I hate your puns so much. Ow.", she finished.

Aang winced at the ringing in his ears. The stupid screeching 'intimidation whistle' was beginning to get on his nerves, not in the least because (of course) someone had gone and planted a subconscious response to it in his brain. Now, in addition to being deafened by the piercing wail, he was also instilled with an odd feeling of bloodlust and alertness. He wouldn't have minded the latter nearly as much if it came in some form _other _than an incredibly loud steam whistle.

"What's happening?," Zuko inquired, shuffling forward in the saddle. He'd taken off the bandages the day before, and the stitches around where they'd mucked about in his skull were a sight to behold. Katara climbed past him, heading to grab a waterskin no doubt, and they were left alone on Appa's head. The sky bison had been jolted awake by the whistle, and Aang gave him a firm pat, searching the half-light ahead of them.

"I have no idea. They haven't told us anything."

As the first of the airships began to overtake them a few short moments later, someone finally got on a bullhorn.

"Unknown airborne contacts ahead, Avatar! Presume hostile!"

"Screw you too!," Sokka responded. "I really hope they didn't hear that."

Aang turned around to face back at the motley crew.

"All right, gang! We're gonna drop Toph onto one of the airships-"

"Thanks, chief," she said sarcastically, giving a jaunty wave.

"-And then I'm gonna get on my glider and run interference. I'll try and guide Appa close to the airships so we don't get caught in too much crossfire. I have no idea what we're dealing with, so be careful, okay?"

They all gave affirmatives. Aang turned forward.

"Yip yip, buddy! Let's go!"

Appa lowed, and they banked towards the nearest airship, accelerating rapidly to match the thundering pace of the machine's engines. They pulled up next to the narrow deck that extended from the top of the huge gasbag, greeted by a small group of Ember Group air personnel who helped Toph onto the deck.

"Good hunting," she shouted up at them as they pulled away. "I'll see what I can do from here!"

Aang unstrapped his glider- the glider, rather- from the side of the saddle, flicking it open. He wasn't entirely sure when he'd first noticed that _his_ glider- the one the Mechanist had made him- had vanished. An Ember Group airbender had supplied him with one, its light metal frame fitted with all manner of complicated springs and clockwork, and though it flew well he still found it profoundly untrustworthy. Still, prisoners of war couldn't be choosers, as the saying went, and so he leaped into the slipstream, rising rapidly in the thermals coming off the airship's engines. Appa followed closely, and they rose above the main body of the fleet, which was rapidly redeploying from a wide column into a sort of blunted cone-shape. He still couldn't see what they were fighting- there was a flock of birds far below them, their outlines distorted by the rising heat haze, but-

They weren't birds. And they were moving fast. He rolled to one side as a large airborne _something _rose past him, humming like a cicada gone wrong. He caught a brief glimpse of a desiccated human torso, skin gleaming in the spirit light, a face that was a ruined sphere of metal, and then-

"_Do you like my little Masks, Avatar Kuruk? Aren't they delightful?"_

"_Koh, you monster. What have you done to these people? What did anyone ever do to you to deserve such-"_

_The vast insect, its face that of a plump, smiling infant, laughed in sibilant tones._

"_What did I do _to _them? Wrong question, Kuruk old pal. It's what I did _for _them. That one wanted to forget the death of his children in an avalanche. Which you failed to stop. This one lost everything he owned after your little adventure in Ba Sing Se. And this one here- well, you really should have let her keep the baby. You can't blame her for wanting to get away from it all, can't you?"_

_Kuruk collapsed to his knees as his body failed him._

"_You- what-"_

_The insect writhed closer, giving him a pat on the shoulder with one twisted foreleg._

"_There there. You've made mistakes. Everyone makes mistakes, Avatar. Even me. It was a few years ago, wasn't it- when you said that for all my power, nothing I could do amounted to more than smoke and mirrors? I thought about that long and hard about that, you know. And so I found people who you'd wronged, people who wanted to forget, to move on, to be happy again, and I _helped _them. They gave themselves to me and let me use their bodies. No more smoke and mirrors, Kuruk. No more." _

"_What have you done!?"_

"_They're part of me now, and I'm decent enough to let them remain unmolested. Their existence is... somewhat diminished, but they no longer have to worry or feel fear. I made a deal with them, and I, unlike _some _people, uphold my end of a bargain."_

_Koh hauled him to his feet and dusted him off. The humming abominations moved closer._

"_Now," the spirit whispered, "It's time to collect on an old debt."_

-he was on the abomination like a pouncing orca-wolf, tattoos flickering. He wanted to waterbend, to slice the creature to ribbons, but somehow he knew air would have to do. He kicked away from the glider, lashing out with a sweeping gust of wind. The sudden change in airflow caught the thing's fluid body, whipping it into an uncontrollable spin. Good. He had it exactly where he wanted it. The Masks- yes, that was what they were called, the Masks of Koh- they were fluid and amorphous, able to assume many forms, but when outside the Spirit World they were highly unstable. With enough outside force you could make them take on shapes that were difficult to fight in. Shapes that made it easy to break them. The Mask tumbled end-on-end as he fell towards it, maintaining a constant whirlwind gust. Its body was stretching, more and more matter being forced away from its human half as it spun faster and faster. He had to time it just right... A voice in his head screamed _Now_, and he kicked forwards on a bubble of air pressure, his fingers latching on the to thing's face. It writhed and wriggled beneath him, trying to shake him off even as its incredible momentum made his vision dance and blur. He grabbed hard at the unpleasantly warm, slightly oil-slick metal of its face, and leaned in close. He spoke without meaning to, the words coming from somewhere deep within the Avatar State.

"KOH, YOU SON OF A BITCH. I AM THE AVATAR, AND _I AM COMING FOR YOU_!"

He wrenched the sphere free from the thing's head, the effort throwing him free from its still-spinning corpse. Through some incredible turn of fate, he stuck out a hand only to have it encounter the still-drifting glider, his momentum forcing it into a tight banked turn. He looked up at the sound of an unearthly wail as the Mask writhed in its death throes, dissolving away into thin air. He caught another thermal, looping upwards to where he'd last seen Appa.

The sky bison was twisting and shimmying through the air, skeins of water and fire jetting off his back as Katara and Zuko tried to hold off the three Masks pursuing them. Aang willed the air around him into motion, just in time to see Sokka swing off Appa's saddle with a sword in one hand and a rope tied around his waist. For a brief instant, he hung in space, and then the cord went taught and he was snapped into a tight spin, whipping just close enough to one of the Masks to neatly cut its head off. Katara, apparently going by her brother's example, cut another one to pieces with a sheet of ice, while Zuko settled for merely setting one on fire and forcing it out of the air with repeated whips of red flame. Aang dropped out of the sky amongst them, the unfamiliar glider refusing to fold properly and almost yanking him off his feet. He stumbled upright, only to find Katara, Sokka and Zuko all looking to him. He held up a hand, and they waited patiently for him to catch his breath.

"A-avatar Kuruk", he began, "He knows what these things are- They're servants of Koh, or something. He thought he destroyed them all. Their human parts are weak, especially the faces, but the rest of them is some kind of spirit-matter. They can change shapes, become almost anything-"

Sokka, astoundingly, raised a hand.

"When you say become almost anything, d'you mean like become a knife so sharp it can cut an airship's hull-?"

Aang nodded.

"Yes, but-"

Sokka pointed down and to their left. For the first time Aang actually saw what was going on around them. The armada was holding together, powering towards the city, but they were suffering for every meter of sky gained. Hundreds of Masks swarmed about them, silhouetted against the brilliant clouds of anti-air weapons fire the airships were pouring fourth. Several of the ships were damaged, their hulls pierced and torn in dozens of places. Worst-hit was the one closest to them. It seemed to have thrown off its attackers, but its gasbag was sliced open from stem to stern. Repair teams were crawling all over the hull, trying to fix the leaks, but it was still slowly, inexorably falling out of the sky. And he'd left Toph onboard, assuming she'd be safer on an airship than on Appa. Koh's mocking tones rang through his head once more.

"_Everyone makes mistakes, Avatar."_

-~0X0~-

Awwwww yiiiiisssss. We Koh now.

I wasn't really sure when or how I wanted to bring Koh onto the scene in HtE, but it seems he picked a lovely time to creep his way in. There'll be more Koh/Kuruk interplay coming up eventually; I think the dynamic between them (that the show just hinted at) has the potential to be reaaaaaally interesting. Also, this chapter has probably spent more time sitting incomplete on my hard drive than any other- for reasons yet unclear to me it just didn't seem to work, and then something went _click_ and things happened. Anyhoo, thanks for reading, subscribing and favoriting, oh my best beloved captive audience.

As is usually the case for the summer, there may not be another chapter 'til August/September. Life has a way of interfering.


	23. XVIII- An Offer

"Sokka! Take the reigns! Get Appa in close. We need to find Toph, now! Zuko, Katara, you're with me!"

Wordlessly, they sprang into action as the sky bison beneath them bellowed. Sokka wrenched the reigns hard to the left and kicked Appa into a dive.

"Yip yip, buddy! Yip like you've never yipped before!"

The bison seemed to understand, and reacted with a violence that nearly knocked Aang off his feet. They banked hard to the left, and then Appa just let himself stop flying. For a second they were in free-fall, screaming wordlessly as they clung to the saddle. Zuko stretched out an arm and grabbed Sokka by the back of the neck as he rose out of his seat. Then the bison tilted, slapped the air with his tail, and they were slammed onto his back as he shot forwards, cutting through the air like a knife. A Mask swirled towards them and caught momentarily on one of Appa's horns, before a dart of water from Katara sent it shrieking away, its face a ruined mess. In moments they were alongside the rapidly-descending airship, its engines running at full power in a futile attempt to keep the doomed vessel aloft. Several of the suriving repair crew clinging insect-like to the hull threw over a line and reeled them in.

"Where is Bei Fong!?", Aang roared over the tortured rumble of the engines, to a crewman whose face was red with the burns of spot welding. He gestured back with a still-steaming rivet gun, pointing to the bottom of the vessel.

"Cargo bay, last I heard! Repelling boarders! Captain's ordered us to abandon ship, Avatar! I'd get out of here if I were you!"

"Not without Toph!", he shouted back. "Sokka, get us to that cargo bay!"

"Going as fast as the big furball can!", he retorted as they descended below the hull. They'd been flying relatively high up, but the ground was still approaching worryingly quickly. Not only were they falling, but the hills were rising- Omashu was close.

In seconds, they'd reached what was left of the cargo bay, now a ruined gaping hole in the bottom of the airship- something had burst it like a rotten fruit, and the metal was still-

A Mask tumbled out of the bay, wailing as it tried fruitlessly to tear a forearm-sized chunk of metal free from its head.

"Only one person could do _that._", Zuko observed as drily as he could over the din of battle.

"We've got to save her! Sokka, bring Appa up!", Katara commanded, readying her waterskin. They rose slowly, Aang steeling himself for whatever horrors he'd see inside the bay. They worked their way slowly through the tangled mess of girders- one close enough for him to reach out and touch, and then-

"Catch me catch me CATCH MEEEEEEE-_oof._"

Toph fell out of the ruined space above them, rolling uncontrollably before landing in an unceremonious heap in the saddle. Apparently un-phased, she leapt to her feet, dusting herself off.

"Well _that_ shouldn't have worked. Just lucky you decided to touch the ship. Guys, I need your help."

"With what?", Sokka shot back, "We need to get out of here! There are monsters everywhere! Now's our chance to book it!"

"There are people trapped onboard, Sokka. I can save them."

Katara cast a worried glance up at the still-descending ship, then down at the rocky, looming ground.

"Toph, I'm sorry," she said softly. "We don't have enough time. The ship is going to crash. Staying here is suicide."

The little blind girl shook her head, jaw clenched.

"No, it's not. You've got the greatest Earthbender in the world with you. Aang, I need you and Appa pushing up as hard as you can, okay? I'm going to slow the ship down enough that the crew can land it."

Aang knew better than to question her. As she planted her feet as best she could in the saddle, he stood back, conjuring up a swirling column of rising wind beneath them.

"Appa, buddy, give it all you've got!"

Toph raised her hand, fists clenched as if she was straining against some great force. Aang felt the metal plates in his second hand Ember Group outfit begin to shake and clatter, and the air filled with a low groaning noise. Zuko had to clap a hand over the hilt of his sword to keep it from rising out of its sheathe.

"Toph, what are you-?"

She let out a wordless bark of effort, veins standing out on her hands and temples. Above them, the airship twitched as if it had been stung by a bee. The metal girders around them bent and twisted, curling and bending- curling and bending _upwards_. Slowly, inexorably, the airship began to rise as Toph hissed between clenched teeth.

"I- Am- Toph- Bei- Fong!"

"Rock!", Sokka shouted in a panic. Zuko shook his head, nonplussed.

"Sokka, she's bending the metal!"

The Water Tribesman pointed dead ahead.

"No, _rock_!"

There was indeed a rock in the way. Or rather, a smallish mountain. There was no time to swerve aside. Aang closed his eyes despite himself. And then he opened them in shock as he felt familiar whispers in his mind. He gazed in wonder as the tattoos on the backs of his hands flickered faintly and then began to glow. He raised his hands, palms out, and the mountain moved aside. The voices in his head- the Avatars- were growing stronger. He looked up at the airship above him, slowly deforming as Toph's Metalbending grip fought against gravity. Then the voices spoke through him.

"Toph Bei Fong. Yours is a remarkable talent. Rest now."

He exhaled a breath as vast as the winds, as powerful as the earth, as deep as the oceans, as vibrant as the sun. And then darkness overtook him.

* * *

He awoke on his back, in darkness save for the everpresent green-brown glow of the Spirit World. All around him were the towering shapes of stone buildings, their empty windows gazing down on him, their locked doors like accusing mouths- it could only be Omashu. He was in some kind of wheeled cart, rolling through Omashu. And then Katara leaned over the edge of the cart, and he relaxed.

"Hey," he croaked. Her eyes widened, and then she smiled.

"Hey."

And nothing more needed to be said. He tried to rise but was overcome by a wave of dizziness, wobbling before Katara caught him and helped him up.

"He's awake, everyone," she said softly. The cart stopped, and then they were gathered all around him- even Appa.

"Welcome back, Avatar," Sokka proclaimed, beaming. "Good to see you've got your old glow about you, Twinkletoes."

He looked down at his hands, which were resolutely refusing to glow. Taking a deep breath, he reached within himself and found- _yes_.

"I have the Avatars back," he said, and suddenly everything was better.

"Great," Zuko said, but Toph cut in.

"It was amazing, Aang! I've never seen you like that before!"

There was a brief pause before Zuko sighed and cradled his face in his hands. Aang chuckled, then straightened, the magnitude of the situation coming back to him.

"The airship was all right?"

Katara nodded firmly.

"We saw them land pretty heavily in the outskirts of the city, but they made it. I have no idea where the rest of the fleet is."

Sokka _tisked_ his dismissal.

"Their fleet, their problem. As far as I'm concerned, Team Avatar is on their own again and that's _exactly_ how it should be!"

Aang swung his legs over the edge of the cart- still filled with some old, dry cabbage leaves- and stood unsteadily, taking in the darkened, lifeless city, its lively colours somehow dimmed and false, like a mask discarded by an actor. He knew Omashu well, and if he wasn't mistaken they were somewhere in one of the upper levels of the city, near the top-level sled stations. Fighting back brief vertigo, he steadied himself.

"What's our plan?"

Zuko cast a glance up at the bulk of the mountain city's vertical face towering down over them.

"Even if he's gone crazier than usual, Bumi's still a friend, right?"

Aang sighed.

"Let's hope so. He stopped responding to my letters before this all started, but he's our only shot. Toph, I know you might want to go-"

She sighed theatrically.

"If I knew what rolling your eyes meant, I'd be doing it right now. Look, I've come this far without my parents, and the fact that they're secret commando spies changes nothing. The Ember Group are the bad guys here. Heck, the White Lotus are too. But we're- yes, Sokka, we're Team Avatar. And we're together. And we're gonna kick butt and restore balance. Or whatever, Twinkletoes. It's your show."

Aang smiled.

"All right team, huddle up."

They gathered around, Appa shuffling in closer. Aang took a deep breath, and the reassuring whispers of the Avatar State flowed through him.

"We're stuck in an empty city full of spirit monsters sent by Koh the Face-Stealer."

Toph shrugged.

"Okay. So that's what those were."

Sokka cocked an eyebrow.

"You're not even surprised?"

Toph shrugged. Again.

"Eh, Avatar stuff. I'm used to it. Keep going, Twinkletoes."

"Right. Um, empty city. Masks- Spirit monsters. The Ember Group fleet is approaching rapidly, and they're gonna want us back under their control. Bumi's in here somewhere, and we're not sure if he's friend or foe. He might have guards with him, who knows. So, the plan is- Find Bumi. Get the heck out of here. We can figure out how to end this war later. For not, Bumi. Zuko and I will take the lead. Sokka, Katara and Toph, you're next, Appa in the back. Toph, if you sense something let us know sooner rather than later. And keep it quiet-"

"We were already doing that, Aang. Team Stealthatar, go!"

"-Thank you Sokka. All right, we ready?"

They shared a quiet group hug.

"Let's go. The way to Bumi's palace should be a right at the end of this street."

The gang broke up, Aang taking his place at the front. He was scared, he was in an unknown place, and he didn't know who his enemies were, but he had the Avatar state and he had his friends. That was all he needed. It was a straight shot down the road- right at the mask shop on the end, and then they had a clear path to the road that faced the palace.

Zuko stepped out into the street and bumped into someone rounding the corner. There was a brief struggle, and then a sharp _crack _like an Ember Group weapon firing. Zuko collapsed to the ground, yelping. They reacted automatically. Aang rushed forwards, throwing up a low wall of earth as Katara dragged Zuko bag with a water whip, already going for his foot. Sokka dove forwards with Toph hot on his heels, taking cover behind the low barricade which was already shaking under the impacts of gouts of fire burning like cat's eyes in the darkness-

"Up the street! Heave!", Toph shouted, and Aang gave a mighty push. Fighting in an Earth Kingdom city had its perks- the cobbles of the street shook as they sent a wave of stone rushing towards the Firebenders attacking them. The air was alive with fire, both from the benders and from the Ember Group soldiers firing at them with some kind of slug-throwers. He glanced over the wall and caught a glimpse of one of the larger steam-armoured ones, raising a heavy weapon.

"Toph! Armoured guy! Bigger wall!"

They smacked the earth together, forming a solid hemisphere of stone which shook like a bell as the heavy weapon fired, sending something solid smacking into the rock. Toph crouched, punching mechanically and sending slabs of cobble soaring up the street as Katara joined them, wiping blood off her hands.

"Zuko got hit in the foot. He's bandaging it, but he'll be fine."

Sokka crawled up to them, sword in hand.

"What the heck am I supposed to do?! I can't use a sword in these conditions!"

He turned up the street, voice mocking.

"Fight us like men, you cowards!"

The response came from far too close far too quickly.

"Okay!"

A figure dropped from the buildings above them, going for Toph. She rolled out of the way as Sokka leapt to his feet, drawing his sword. Aang dove forwards to help him but was interrupted by the arrival of a pair of Firebenders driving a curtain of flame before them. He turned the dive into a roll, sweeping the ground away from beneath their feet and redirecting their flames back into the faces of the rank of soldiers behind them. Someone came at him with a pair of knives but he kicked out a spray of water, sending them flying as he bounced to his feet and took out a Firebender with an air-assisted rabbit punch to the center of the chest. More Firebenders were pouring through, assisted by two figures with unfamiliar Ember Group weapons in the back. They had moved closer and were firing past the stone shield now, sending slugs whizzing down around them.

He pushed the shield wider, feeling something small and heavy catch and stick in the light plates of his Ember Group uniform with a _clang_. In a brief moment of stillness, he reached down and pulled it out of the dented plate. It was a throwing knife, about as long as his finger. A very familiar kind of throwing knife.

Something mechanical and person-sized crashed through the stone shield, a pair of fan-shaped blades on the end of its steam-assisted arms whirring through the air as they deflected the shards of ice Katara hurled at it. Aang gazed in wonder at the steam-powered fans. Then at the knife in his hand. Then at Sokka, as his attacker gently tapped him on the shoulder and sent him staggering. And then he heard an unearthly screech and looked up as half a dozen Masks descended from above. He stepped backwards, train of through completely derailed as the swirling monstrosities descended.

"Behind you, Aang!"

A throwing knife shot past his face and buried itself in the Mask that had been creeping up on him.

"Thanks, Mai!", he responded automatically. And _then _the realization hit him.

000

Mai was not one commonly given to shock or wild displays of emotion. She'd moved beyond childish displays of morose emotionlessness, obviously, but she still felt strongly that Fire Nation nobility, and the (admittedly, unofficial) Fire Lady especially, should carry themselves with a certain gravitas and nobility of bearing. She was thus somewhat disappointed when she found herself gawping openmouthed at Aang, who gawped right back. Then she gawped at Suki, who had lowered her whirling mechanical death fans and was gawping at- yes, that was Sokka, and he of course was gawping at Suki. Next she gawped at Ty Lee, who was gawping at everyone, the Avatar's sky bison included, and finally she gawped at Zuko who was not gawping but doing that awkwardly cute frozen look of total and utter disbelief, like the one he'd made the first time she-

Any amusement she could take at the totally surreal nature of the frozen tableau of total surprise laid out before her was interrupted by the Elric brothers ramping off the broken wall of raised stone and simultaneously punching one of the monsters so hard it exploded into lightning. Started back to awareness, she noticed the monster descending on Zuko and instinctively lashed out with one of her rope darts, wrapping it deftly around his middle.

"Get _over _here," she said in iron tones as he was yanked towards her, the Elrics barely missing the top of his head as they landed near the Avatar. And then he was half-collapsed against her, and she was holding him in her arms and despite herself she felt a blush rise to her cheeks.

"M-mai-?", he choked out. She kissed him.

* * *

Al landed on both feet, raised his gun in one hand, and fired. Completely missing the monster that had been attacking- yes, that was definitely Zuko. Some deeper part of his subconscious considered that realization and whether or not he should start freaking out about it, then set it aside. He had other things to worry about. He dropped the rifle, bringing his fists down and scooping up two fist-shaped columns of earth which pinned the- the thing to the wall. Ed followed his lead, alchemical spear in hand, and leapt up the columns before driving the point of his weapon through the center of the thing's face. Its death scream seemed to wake everyone up.

"They're friendlies!", he screamed. "Royal Guards, focus fire on the monsters!"

The Firebenders, who had hesitated as the tableau unfolded, got back to work with considerable alacrity. The four remaining monsters spun and whirled as the air around them burned, twisting and elongating to find openings in the burning curtain beneath them. One did, rushing at Suki. She turned- a moment too late- and the creature impaled itself on Sokka's sword, still clawing forwards. She brought her steam projector up and blew it to pieces. Al didn't stay still enough to see what happened next- the remaining three had broken through and were going for Aang, who was battering at them with huge gusts of wind. A whirl of movement later, and he found himself alongside the Avatar, encased in a globe of whirling air. He scooped up the rifle, cocked it and fired at the nearest creature, which seemed unbothered by the bullet. Ed joined him in the sphere, throwing himself through the whirling winds with a yelp.

"Aang!", he roared, "how the heck do you kill these things?!"

"You made one explode just now! You tell me!", the Avatar yelled back, attention still on blowing away the incoming monster. Al looked at his brother and shrugged.

"We have no idea what we just did, Aang! I felt something solid and tried to transmute it!"

"The only- _oof _solid part of a Mask's body is the core in the face! Try that!"

He made eye contact with Ed, who nodded. Al pressed his hands to the earth as one of the monsters swooped low.

"Aang, stop bending- _now_!"

The shield of air dropped. The monster descended. Al forced the ground under his brother upwards, and the smaller alchemist collided with the creature in midair. There was a moment's brief struggle- it wobbled- and then Ed yelled something incoherent and obscene and it dissolved with a scream of electrical discharge, sending him tumbling to the ground. The remaining two monsters, apparently discouraged, backed off, departing with a duo of rapidly-receding shrieks. Al helped his brother off, and then surveyed the situation as a bemused-looking Royal Guard sergeant approached him.

"Mister Elric, sir. We're all clear, and the street is secured. I'd, uh, I'd tell the Fire Lord and Lady, but, um. We didn't get trained for this."

Mai and Zuko were still kissing. Sokka and Suki had apparently decided to follow their abandon, and were going at it with some enthusiasm. Ed sighed.

"This is why you don't go on world-saving adventures as a couple."

Al couldn't help but smile.

"What would Teacher and Mister Curtis say if they heard that? Or Hawkeye and the General? Or Winry for that matter?"

Ed laughed sarcastically.

"Har har har. You know what I mean."

Aang and Katara approached, shaven-headed and exhausted but looking happy, all in all. To Al's surprise, the Avatar hugged him and his brother close, tears dancing in his eyes.

"We're all together again," he said. "Thank goodness. After Gaoling, we thought-"

Ed waved his hand dismissively.

"You think a little thing like seeing a city destroyed is gonna stop the Elrics? Pffft. We're _fine_. How the heck did you guys get here?"

Aang seemed about to start, but something obviously caught him. He looked around furtively, eyes seeming to catch on the weird abandoned mask shop on the corner.

"We should talk, but not here. Something about this city, it-"

Al nodded, and when he spoke his brother did too.

"It's like we're being watched."

They stopped and looked at each other. Ed nodded.

"Yup, okay, that's creepy, let's gather up the lovebirds and go back to the _Phoenix_."

Aang perked up.

"You have an airship?"

Her footsteps light, an extremely dishevelled and slightly flushed-looking Mai joined them, accompanied by Zuko who looked like he still hadn't accepted what had just happened. She gave Aang and Katara a curt nod, and then spoke, quickly suppressing a slight quaver in her voice.

"We do- ahem- indeed have an airship, Avatar. The _Phoenix_, last product of Ozai's military drive. The monsters seem to have been ignoring us for now, so we may be safer there than in the streets. As soon as Sokka and Suki are ready, of course."

Sokka popped his head up, face covered in lipstick and mottled smears of makeup.

"Just five more m-"

Katara cleared her throat in a very pointed manner, and the couple released each other, Suki's pneumatic suit hissing. She readjusted her helmet, giggling incongruously.

"Right. War zone. Good to see you all. Sorry."

Al shared a knowing glance with Ed. Today had, all things considered, been a good day.

* * *

"You've spent the past month flying around the world just- just wrecking the Ember Group?"

"Mm-hm."

"Zuko, you know how to pick 'em."

Aang agreed with Sokka. He wouldn't say it out loud, but Mai had shown herself to be frighteningly competent. The _Phoenix _was rag-tag and in some places held together with spit and polish, but it was a working military airship and it had survived this long. He was slightly disappointed she hadn't brought Momo along- the lemur was apparently quite well taken care of on Kiyoshi Island- but that was nothing.

Mai sat forward, her fingers steepled.

"We came here looking for the Ember Group, but if they're after King Bumi then he should be our top priority. Whatever his influence on the White Lotus, he is an asset to- to whatever we are. A few months ago I would have firmly put us in the camp of the Lotus, but…"

Ed crossed his arms.

"But that's not happening. They need to go down, and so do the Ember Group."

"Okay, great 'plan' and all," Toph interjected, "But that still puts us- a single airship- against a gigantic technological army and some kind of invasion from the Spirit World backed by- lemme see here- the Earth King. And the Ember's been trashing every Earth Kingdom army they get their hands on. On top of that the Water Tribes are too busy figuring out what the hell happened to the North to do anything, and the Fire Nation is rebuilding the Capital. I'm no strategist or anything, but we're kind of alone on this one. Application of force in key areas for the purpose of bringing down a larger power is fine, but we've got to think about what resources we can leverage here."

There was a long silence.

"What? It was a long, boring month in hospital, and they had books I could listen to. I did some light reading," she said.

Al spoke up.

"We also need to think about our other goal- getting Ed and I back to Amestris. We're happy to help, but we're not here to end this conflict. When it boils down to it, this has nothing to do with us. The Ember Group wants us because we're from… elsewhere. We're outside the equation. You get us home, that solves all our problems. We just had the bad luck to arrive here as things were getting started."

"Mai, there's no chance we can mobilize the armies of the Fire Nation?"

Mai stifled a yawn and leaned closer to her significant other, eyes tired.

"Not gonna happen, Zuko," she said wearily. "Oh, sure, we could mobilize the reserves and re-arm the airship fleet, but that takes time. If I'd given the order a month ago, maybe, but I was busy trying to get the situation in the Capital sorted out. And in finding you. The Fire Nation can come, but not fast enough."

Zuko sat back, somewhat dislodging Mai.

"Ugh," he moaned. "I wish Uncle was here. He'd have some idea what to do."

Aang frowned.

"Neutral jing."

"Oh come _on_," Sokka scoffed. "You're saying we do nothing? I know, I know, Bumi's a mad genius, yadda yadda yadda, but still. Waiting to see what happens? Now, when we're back together?"

Katara nodded.

"No, he has a point. We _are _back together. Our families, wherever they are, are probably safe. Why not sit back and accept that there is nothing we can do to stop this war? We don't do nothing, but we assume that we do everything _except _stopping it. We can help the people who get caught up in it. We keep the world out of this war to keep it safe."

Aang frowned. An idea- a worrying idea- was building up inside of him. Al caught his discomfort.

"Aang?", he asked. Aang shook himself and then spoke, picking his words carefully.

"Maybe… maybe this is balance. I'm the Avatar. I'm meant to restore order to the world. But what if that order is changing? The world's become unrecognizable in the past few months. Isn't that a sign? Is this the new balance? This war? I wish I knew. I need to meditate long and hard on this, because- because I don't want to be wrong. I don't want to be the Avatar who didn't understand where the world was going and fought to change it in the wrong ways. I- I feel lost. More than ever. I'm sorry. I just don't know."

They sat there silent for a long, long time. The little conference room in the bowels of the _Phoenix _was full of hissing pipes and the hum of the ship's engines, and the meaningless noise of industry hung over them like a cloud. Aang didn't know what to say. He looked up as the bulkhead door swung open, eyes widening as Azula, former Crown Princess of the Fire Nation, stepped into the room. There was something wrong with her face- her eyes were clear and calm, free of the glazed insanity he'd seen in them before, but it looked like her facial features were- were evaporating, wavering like mist as they boiled away from her face in streamers of pink dust. She opened her mouth to speak, and her voice was low and pleasant and somehow sibilant.

"The Avatar, discouraged so easily? And you were doing so well. I'll tell you what. You need a hint? You need a push in the right direction? A little… outside help? Well let's talk."

No one moved or spoke as she strolled over to the low table, pulling up a chair and sitting leisurely alongside them.

"A-azula", Zuko croaked. "Mai, she- she's here? You didn't…"

The Princess shook her head disappointedly.

"Oh dear oh dear oh _dear_. Mai, you didn't tell him? That you were using his deranged sister as the power source for the genocide machine his father built? It just goes to show couples shouldn't keep any secrets from each other, hmmm? Anyways, Avatar. To business."

"You're not Azula," Aang said. The Princess laughed.

"What tipped you off? The face? Well, this is her body. This is her face. Not her mind, though. She's fine for now, Zuko, Relax. I just needed a way to get my message across- always helps to have a- a pretty face."

"Koh."

"An excellent deduction, Avatar. Now, then. Your predecessors owe me, Avatar. There is a debt to be repaid. However, in light of… current affairs, I'm going to make you an offer. I'm willing to waive that debt. In exchange for which you'll need to do something for me. I'd put on my business face, but in this body I'm… limited."

"What do you want, Koh?"

The Face-Stealer smiled a wide, pleasant smile.

"Why, you're going to help me annihilate the Order of the White Lotus!"

-~0X0~-

It has been 11 months, almost to the day, since I last updated this fic. For that, I apologize. Lots has happened in the meantime- I finished a year of university, started working full-time, wrote a lot, published very little... But such is life.

I cannot promise that I will ever properly finish this fic. It would be safe to call this chapter the end of the second act of three, or maybe the third act of five. Either way, there's still a great deal of _Harnessing the Elements _left which I may never write in full. I promise you this, however- if I ever decide to totally abandon this fic, I will never abandon you, my readers (assuming you're still around). The final chapter of this work _will _give a brief summary of the rest of the story, as well as tie up remaining plot threads. It will not be a full, proper chapter and may not be much more than a longish point-form list, but I promise you I will not leave you hanging.

Thank you for your patience.


End file.
